


A Marriage of Inconvenience

by MaverickLover2



Category: Maverick (TV)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Poker, gambler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 04:29:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 25,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5991732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaverickLover2/pseuds/MaverickLover2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A promise that Bart Maverick made gets him into marital hot water</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And the Answer is No

“NO!” Bart Maverick almost spit out the word. “Absolutely no!”

Out of the corner of his eye Bart could see Samantha Crawford’s expression turn from pleading to petulant, swiftly followed by anger. When she spoke there was a tone in her voice that he’d never heard before, and it caught his attention. “You owe me!”

He didn’t know whether to be frustrated or sickened. She was undeniably correct and he knew it. Many times in the past they had ended up in a situation created by Samantha and her schemes and Bart had extracted them with a minimum of damage. This time the mess was completely Bart’s doing and it was up to Samantha to save both of their lives. She did so beautifully after obtaining the promise that Bart owed her. If he had only known that her demand for “payback” was to marry her cousin, he might have thought twice about facing that angry poker loser and his cronies. Instead, he was confronting a beautiful woman that he owed his life to - who was, in his view, demanding the ultimate sacrifice.

“How many times have I saved your hide?” He was defensive and Samantha knew it. She also knew that he would never win this argument. That’s why a smile inched its way across her face as she replied sweetly “But I never agreed to repay you in any way that I could, did I?”

He pulled a cigar out of his coat pocket and lit it. There had to be a way out of this predicament. He just needed enough time to figure it out. And maybe some input from his brother. Where was Bret when Bart needed him most? In that instant he could hear Bret’s voice in his head: ‘You got yourself into this mess, little brother, get yourself out.’

Bart snorted at the perceived taunt but knew that Bret and Samantha were right. He was in a mess. And he could think of only one solution. “Give me some details. How long do we have to stay married and where am I supposed to sleep?”

“As long as it takes for the lawyer to settle the will and Caroline to be debt free. And in her home, of course. She has a spare room. It just needs to look like the marriage is real.“ Samantha grinned – she knew that Bart was defeated. He was a gambler; a drifter with a taste for cigars and damsels in distress; a gentleman and a coward (to hear him tell it); a man who honored his word, when given, no matter how painful it might be. And she couldn’t help chuckling to herself that, whether he liked it or not, he owed her. Bart Maverick would do as she asked and help extract Caroline Crawford from the situation she was in. It felt good to be holding all the cards, for once.


	2. No Way Out

Bart still couldn’t believe that he was actually going to get married, much less to a woman that he had yet to meet for the first time. “Come on, Sam, there must be another way around this.” Bart sounded like a man who has just been told that he was going to hang. And in a way he was. He and his brother Bret had been unmarried for so long that it seemed like a natural way to live. Besides, Pappy had told them never to ‘get hitched’ until they were 38 years old, and that was still a long way off.

Samantha had no sympathy for Bart. He owed her his life, pure and simple, and she was going to collect on his promise to do what she asked. “The wedding is set for tomorrow morning,” she told him in response to his plea for mercy. “After that you can do as you please, as long as you stay in Caroline’s house and act like her loving husband in public.” An image flashed into her mind, with Bart as the bull with a ring through his nose, and she almost laughed.

He pushed his chair back from the hotel dining room table and stood up. Squaring his shoulders, he picked up his hat and cleared his throat. He was a good looking man, with wavy brown hair and an elegant manner about him that belied his upbringing in Texas as a gambler’s second son. “Fine. Be that way. But I don’t have to like it.” He had resigned himself to living in abject misery for the foreseeable future.

“Look presentable at 10 tomorrow and meet us at the church. And try to pretend that you’re happy about it. That was the provision that my uncle left for Caroline to inherit and you will not spoil things for her. Mr. Shafer has to believe you two are happily and willingly married so she can get her money and pay off the men her father owed.” Samantha spoke firmly, determined that Bart Maverick was not going to back out on his promise now that she had found a way to help her cousin. “I don’t care what you do until tomorrow, as long as you’re there at 10.”

Bart was staring at Samantha as she spoke. He had never heard her like this. Usually she was all syrup and honey, batting her eyes and flirting shamelessly with him, hot one minute and hotter the next. Now there was no warmth in her voice, no sweetness in her words. Just a firm command of the situation, like one of the generals he had answered to during the war. He hadn’t been overly fond of orders then and he wasn’t inclined to obey them willingly now. And again there was Bret’s voice in his head: ’Brother Bart, better not poke the bear. You know what Pappy always said about a woman that’s mad.’ He tried to think just what it was that Pappy said, but for once his memory deserted him. He sighed resignedly and asked what seemed to be the next logical question: “When am I going to meet her?”

“That can be arranged.” The honey returned to Samantha’s voice. “Be here at the hotel at 2 o’clock and we’ll go to the ranch.” She smiled up at him sweetly, turning back into the Samantha that he knew. “I’m glad that you’re going to co-operate.”

“Nobody said anything about co-operation.” He slumped slightly and leaned on the chair with both hands. “But I know when I’m licked. I’d hate to play poker with you.”


	3. Chemical Reaction

She had no idea where he went or what he did the rest of the morning, but he was in the hotel lobby at 2 that afternoon. He had changed clothes, no longer looking like the average cowhand. Instead he wore the typical gamblers attire, with a long frock coat and fancy shirt and vest. Samantha had to admit that he cleaned up nicely, even if the look on his handsome face made him appear he was headed for the gallows.

“Much better,” she purred, trying to change his grim expression.

“Rrrrrggggghhhh,” came the muffled reply. “Let’s go. The sooner we do this, the sooner I can undo it.”

She had to smile to herself. He was in for quite a surprise.

Bart drove the buggy in silence, following Sam’s directions to the ranch. All he could think about was “unholy matrimony” and what Bret and Pappy would say if they ever found out. And that was not a pretty picture.

The house was rather large for a typical “ranch” house. You could tell that it was home to a woman who spent time outdoors because the front entrance had a wide porch with a swing attached to the roof and flowers everywhere. It looked lived in and well maintained. Sam, Bart, and the buggy pulled up and Bart got down and helped Sam out. “Rrrrrggggghhhh,” Bart muttered again. And then the front door opened.

It was not what Bart Maverick was expecting. When one mentioned their relative who was unmarried one naturally assumed ‘small, dumpy, unattractive.’ Caroline Crawford looked more like Samantha’s sister than her cousin. She was tall and slender, with glorious brown eyes, long golden hair and a way of moving that made men stare as she walked. And the best part of all – she seemed not to know the effect she had on those same men.

He was pleasantly surprised. More than pleasantly. At least he hadn’t been hoodwinked into marriage with a mouse! He held his arm out for Samantha and guided her up the steps onto the porch. “Caroline Crawford, meet Bart Maverick. Your husband to be.”

Caroline smiled gracefully. “How nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Maverick. Please come in.”

“Thank you,” Bart replied, removing his hat. He placed his hand on the small of Samantha’s back and steered her in the door. The room was wide and comfortable, with a large stone fireplace at one end. It looked lived in but well kept.

“Please sit down.” Caroline indicated chairs by the side of the room. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, please,” Bart answered. For some reason his nerves were a little rattled and he welcomed the chance to regain his composure before going any further. Funny how the sight of a fine looking woman could disturb the bravado of even an expert gambler. He picked a chair and pulled it out for Samantha. Once she was seated, he tucked the tails of his coat like he always did and sat down. He looked at Sam and hissed “You could have warned me!”

“And missed the expression on your face the first time you saw her?”

“How was I supposed to know?” he asked impatiently.

“What, that she’s beautiful and charming and beautiful? We’re related, for heaven’s sake! Did you expect her to be short, fat and dumpy?”

“I don’t know,” he answered curtly. This whole situation had thrown him off balance, and the only reason he still looked calm was his years of poker playing. He needed time to think, to figure out the conundrum that he had gotten himself into, and this was not the place for that. Best to swallow his anxiety and tough it out until he could get back to his hotel room.


	4. Now What?

Bart sat down on the edge of his bed at the hotel and lit a cigar. “What now?” he wondered out loud. What would Pappy do? Or Bret? One thing for sure, their horse would be saddled and they would as far out of town as they could get as fast as they could get there. Well, maybe not Bret. He too was quite the ladies man. Come to think of it, so was Pappy. ‘ _Maybe I should rethink this’_ was the next thought to cross his mind. _‘After all, she’s good looking, owns a ranch and I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do.’_ Uh huh. Except get married. To someone that he just met.

He stood up restlessly and wandered over to the window. Getting married had only crossed his mind once and that was years ago. Besides, by the time he was ready to commit to her, she had found someone to replace him. There had been escapades and dalliances along the way since then, and he had had his heart broken a few times, but never seriously.  Was he actually thinking about this? Such a drastic step because of a promise made in the heat of the moment?

He relit the cigar, which had gone out because of his inattention. “Brother Bret, where are you when I need you most?”

There was only one thing left to do. Bret was supposed to be on the way to Carson City for a big game (was there any other kind?) and always stayed at the Carson City Queen Hotel. Bart would send a telegram asking for help and hope for the best. Maybe he could convince Samantha that the wedding could wait a few days, giving Bret enough time to get the telegram and hightail it to Dry Springs. He stubbed out his cigar, put on his coat and grabbed his hat. The telegram office was next to the hotel.

 


	5. Doom and Gloom

Unfortunately for Bart, the next day dawned bright and sunny. Not that sunrise made any difference; he hadn’t slept last night and alternated between pacing and smoking and pacing and smoking. He couldn’t even concentrate enough to play Maverick Solitaire. Once it got to be 7 o’clock he considered eating breakfast, but that notion was quickly discarded when his stomach started feeling like it had packed its bags and moved to steadier ground.

_‘For God’s sake, Brother Bart, get hold of yourself,’_ Bret’s voice admonished him in his head. _‘This is no way to act.’_

“How would you know?” Bart asked out loud. “How many times have you gotten married?”

Dead silence filled the room before Bart said “I thought so.”

Before he could have any more conversations with himself, there was a knock on the door. Still dressed in yesterday's clothes, Bart opened it to find the desk clerk with a piece of paper in his hands. “Mr. Maverick, this telegram just came for you. It’s marked urgent.”

“Thanks.” Bart closed the door and sat down on the bed before opening the telegram. “My best wishes to you and your new wife. Don’t tell Pappy.” Of course, it was signed “Brother Bret.”

Bart heaved a sigh and actually felt somewhat relieved. There was only one clear path open to him now and he was going to take it. He stood up and started packing his suitcase; stopped, started, stopped, started, and then gave up.

“Who am I kidding?” he asked. “A promise is a promise, and I promised Sam anything she asked for.” With his mind finally made up, he started to change clothes, then pack the suitcase for good. It wouldn’t look very assuring to get married before checking out of the hotel. He’d just have to grit his teeth and go through with it. Unless he got struck by lightning at the last minute. He took one last glance out the open window and decided that wasn’t likely.


	6. When All Else Fails . . . .

Promptly at 10 o’clock Bart pulled the buggy up in front of the church. He hadn’t been inside a church of any sort  since they buried Momma, and that was an awfully long time ago. He hesitated a moment before climbing out and tying the reins to a hitching post, just in case God was going to give him a reprieve. Nothing happened, so he removed his hat and opened the door. It was dark inside after the bright sunlight and it took  a minute for him to see anything. Samantha and Caroline were standing in front of the preacher and Bart was hard pressed to decide which one was prettier. He took a deep breath and started walking to the front of the church.

Bart blinked once, twice and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he heard the reverend say “I now pronounce you man and wife” and he swallowed hard. He couldn’t remember anything that had gone before, but he must have answered everything properly because it was all over and he was married. They were married. “They” was a concept that would take some time getting used to; maybe by then it would be “he” again.

Samantha had a big grin on her face. “I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it!” She hugged Caroline and kissed Bart on the cheek. “Congratulations!”

Caroline looked at him like “haven’t you forgotten something” and it took Bart a moment to realize that she expected to be kissed. Like any happy new bride. He gave her a quick peck on the lips and decided that would have to do for now. This marriage thing was a concept that was new and foreign to him and it was going to take some getting used to.

“Let’s get you moved into the ranch” was the next thing anyone said, and it came from Samantha. She wasn’t sure either of the newlyweds was listening to her, but Bart nodded his head and Caroline turned toward her. “I think that’s a good idea,” Caroline responded. Bart took Caroline’s arm in one hand and Samantha’s in the other and walked them both toward the church door. He looked and acted like everything was fine, so Sam was confident that everything was. She was wrong.

 


	7. The Prospect of Torture

Bart remembered grabbing the girls arms and marching them back outside. He helped Sam get in the back seat and turned around to find Caroline already sitting in front. “I’ll remember that,” he thought. It seemed important that he remember his new bride could get in a buggy all by herself.

The ranch was only a short distance from the church and the wedding party arrived in a few minutes.  The loading procedure was repeated in reverse, with Bart assisting Caroline out of the carriage before she could climb down alone. He walked her into the house and returned for Samantha. Sam was waiting for him to lift her down  onto the ground; Bart stood still by the buggy for a brief moment before looking up at her. “How am I supposed to act now?”

“Like  a new husband, Mr. Maverick. At least while we’re outside. I think we should have some tea and discuss the situation.” For a split second Bart looked like he was going to jump back in the buggy and take off; then something briefly changed in his eyes. And he smiled for the first time in a week. “I need a drink.”

Given Bart’s reluctance to consume alcohol, Sam chose to see this as an acceptance of the conditions that had brought them to this point. “I think we can arrange that as soon as you help me down.”

Caroline already had tea, coffee and whiskey waiting inside. She sat at the table and poured herself half a cup of tea, then filled the remainder of the cup with whiskey. She poured Bart a shot and left Sam to choose her own drink. “I know we didn’t talk much yesterday, but I want you to know that I appreciate your willingness to participate in this charade. My father thought that I should be married in order to gain control of his assets. He didn’t stop to think that I might need those assets to pay off his debts. And with no potential husband on the horizon I found myself in a very precarious position. When Sam told me what you were willing to do to help I couldn’t believe she had a friend with such a big heart.” It was obvious that Samantha had not told Caroline the truth about Bart’s “willingness to participate.”

Sam sat perfectly still and waited to see if Bart would spill the truth or cover for her. He looked at the shot glass full of whiskey in front of him and poured a cup of coffee. “Samantha and I have known each other a long time,” he said slowly and carefully. “There isn’t much we haven’t done to or for each other. I couldn’t think of a single reason to turn her down.” That was true. He could think of several reasons to say “NO” and had, in fact, done just that. But he couldn’t come up with one reason that was better than another. He took  a sip of coffee and raised an eyebrow at Sam. “I owe her my life.”

“ I truly appreciate your kindness. I’ll do everything in my power to make this as painless as possible for you.” Caroline paused and looked at Bart. “Your room is down the hall from mine. I don’t ask that you do anything other than accompany me to town when necessary and pretend to be happy. Samantha explained your  profession to me and I see no reason why you can’t continue to pursue it as you choose. Although it would probably look better if you participated in it a little less frequently at first. Just so it doesn’t raise people's suspicions. Once our lawyer, Mr. Shafer, has approved the will and turned over the assets, I’ll pay off my father's debts. At that point we can have the marriage annulled. Or get a divorce. Whichever you prefer.”

“Any idea on just how long that might take?” Bart asked with a hopeful note in his voice.

“Several weeks, I would imagine” Sam answered before Caroline could say anything. She needed Bart to know that this wouldn’t go on forever.

“Actually, Mr. Shafer told me that it could be several months” was Caroline’s reply. “I hope that doesn’t inconvenience you too much. I promise to make things as pleasant as possible.” There was that promise of ‘painless and pleasant’ that Caroline had offered more than once. Bart wondered what she had in mind. No, he quickly thought. This was not Samantha, this was a lady. Whatever she had in mind was sure to be respectable. And most likely sheer torture.


	8. Delusional

The room was large and airy, certainly more comfortable than most of the hotel rooms that Bart spent his time in. And it provided an additional luxury that he didn’t usually have – a private bath!

He spent a few minutes unpacking and then looked around. What would he do now? What was he supposed to do? His head was no clearer than that morning at sunrise. “There’s a thought,” he mumbled under his breath. “Sleep.” He hung his coat on a chair and sat on the bed. Finding the firmness to his liking, he laid down and closed his eyes. But sleep had other ideas and as tired as he was there was no respite from the reality of it all – he had married the girl! “I’m a dead man. Pappy will kill me when he finds out.”

_‘Now Brother Bart, who says he has to find out?_ ’ Once again Bret’s voice rang in his ears. _‘I’m not going to tell him.’_

_‘No, you’ll hold it over my head until you need something, then threaten and harass me until I agree to help. I know you, Bret. You’ll never let me forget this.’_

_‘Should have thought of that first,’_ came his older brother’s voice. There was a pause, then _‘What are you going to do?’_

_‘Kill myself.’_ That was the only thing Bart could think of at the moment. Not a pleasant prospect. He started to imagine ways of dying and realized that it was now dark outside. He had slept but felt no more rested than when he first laid down. _‘Guess I better go downstairs and see how much trouble I’m in.’_


	9. The Dance Begins

Samantha looked up from her book to see Bart at the top of the staircase. He looked terrible, like a man who was waiting for something dreadful to occur. “Have a nice nap?”

“Mmmmmppppffff,” was the mumbled reply. Something she was getting used to hearing. “I’m going out for a smoke.”

“Don’t stray too far, dinner is almost ready.”

As if his stomach had any say in the matter, it growled loudly. He hadn’t eaten in . . . he couldn’t remember his last meal. Ha! His last meal! How ironic to think of food that way, given the contemplations of dying that he had fallen asleep with. Enticing smells drifted into the room from the kitchen and his stomach growled again. “Shut up already,” he muttered to himself. “Still smoking.”

Bart strode across the room, suddenly eager to get fresh air. Once outside he lit a cigar and leaned against the house, watching a cat walk across the front yard. His head was still arguing with him on a course of action. It skittered back and forth between _‘the worst is over’_ and _‘the worst is yet to come.’_ The door creaked open slowly and Caroline’s voice announced “Dinner is ready.” Bart turned to follow her inside and once again the look of a man going to the gallows settled on his face. “Honestly, I’m not going to poison you. Just feed you.”

He managed a weak smile and closed the door behind them. “Sorry. Just not used to being fed.”

She looked at his lean frame and answered “Yes, I can see that.”

He took his place at the table, between Samantha and Caroline, and had to admit that he was starving. If the food tasted anything like it smelled, he wouldn’t walk away hungry.

Dinner proceeded in relative silence. Samantha tried amusing them with tales of the scrapes she and Bart had been in, carefully worded so that Caroline wouldn’t know the exact nature of their relationship. Best that her cousin remain in the dark about her new husband. After several tries in engaging either of them in conversation Sam gave up and finished her dinner. This was not going to be easy.


	10. One Step Forward

Bart woke early the next morning, finally having gotten enough sleep. The house was quiet and he dressed quickly, trying not to make any more noise than necessary. He made his way downstairs and out the front door without rousing anyone and walked straight to the barn. For the moment, all he could think of was _‘_ _Saddle horse. Get on horse. Ride horse.’_

Once he was out of the barn, the haze in his mind started to clear. He knew that he had to start thinking straight again. This walking around in a state of confusion wouldn’t do him any good. For a brief moment the fact that there was someone else to consider entered his mind, then slipped away. The horse, the grass, the sunlight and the sound of a barking dog were all that registered in his head.

Almost 2 hours later he returned to the ranch, clear-headed for the first time in days. There was no doubt in his mind, he needed to tell Caroline the truth about his reason for the marriage. No sense in putting it off, he didn’t like lying for no good reason (which seemed to occur all too often, considering his chosen profession). He tied the  reins to the hitching post out front, almost certain that once Caroline heard the truth she would want him gone as quickly as possible. As he got to the front door, the smell of fresh coffee reached him. His stomach gave an extended growl. “Stop that!”

Samantha was nowhere in sight but Caroline was sitting at the table sipping coffee. Bart pulled up a chair and picked up an empty cup. Before he could reach for the pot, Caroline picked it up and poured for him. She smiled brightly at him and whispered “Good morning! You were up awfully early.”

The sound of her whisper startled him. It seemed like they were conspiring to do some unthinkable deed. He answered her quietly “That’s what happens when you sleep all day and all night.”

She nodded in understanding and took a sip from her cup. “I can have breakfast ready in a few minutes. Are you hungry?”

“Very.”

“Good. I need to go into town for  some things and should see Mr. Shafer. It will give me a chance to introduce you to him. Is there anything that you need? Anything that you don’t have?”

Bart hesitated before answering her. He was tempted to say “My freedom” but thought better of it. “There’s something that I need to tell you.”

“Can it wait? I’d really like to get an early start. We can talk when we get back.”

Since he had already decided to tell her the truth it seemed that waiting a few hours wouldn’t hurt anything. “Sure. It’ll wait.”

“Sit right there. Breakfast will be ready in a minute.”

“I need to take care of my horse. I’ll be right back.”

She nodded again and disappeared into the kitchen. Bart took that as a sign that horse unsaddling was just what he needed to do. He went back outside and untied the horse, quickly walking him back to the barn. At the moment his stomach was in control and he wasn’t about to miss breakfast. Besides, he had already decided on a course of action and it couldn’t hurt anything to wait until they returned from town. Little did he know what that decision would cost him.

 


	11. Call My Bluff

The whole buggy situation seemed to go more smoothly this time. Caroline let Bart help her up and they were off at a quick pace. There was no small chit chat; both seemed shy with each other. The road to town was well traveled and they passed several folks returning from errands.

Bart pulled the horses up in front of the general store. “Do you need my help?” He asked, turning to face Caroline.

“That would be most pleasant.” He helped her down and tied up the reins. Then he politely took her by the arm and guided her inside. She gave a short list to the store clerk and Bart tried to busy himself by looking around. What did you do in a store other than buy cigars or a new hat? He’d never had to kill time waiting for anyone before.

“Will that be all, Miss Crawford?” the clerk asked Caroline.

“Mrs. Maverick now” she corrected him. What a strange sound those few words had. Smiling like a bridegroom should, he walked over to her and shook hands with the clerk. “Mr. Maverick, I presume.”

“That would be me,” he offered. “Nice to meet you.” He picked up several small bundles and turned around just in time to see Caroline smiling at him. A soft smile, a new bride smile, a “happy to be Mrs. Maverick” smile. No woman had ever looked at him like that. It was confusing, to say the least. He coughed slightly, just long enough to give him time to regain his composure, and turned back to Caroline. “Are you done, Mrs. Maverick?”

“Quite, Mr. Maverick.”

Bart carried the bundles to the buggy and set them in the back. “Shafer’s office?”

“Down the street on the left. Don’t be nervous, we’re doing fine.”

It was strange to be referred to as “we.” Especially since the only one who had ever used that term was Bret. And Caroline certainly didn’t sound, look or act like his brother.

They drove down the street and pulled up in front of a storefront that simply read ‘Thurgood Shafer, Esq.’ The getting down and getting inside procedure of earlier was repeated. Bart found himself in front of another new person, this time a law clerk. “Mr. and Mrs. Maverick to see Mr. Shafer, please.” Caroline’s tone was firm and unwavering. She has nerves of steel, Bart thought. She’d make a great poker player.

The law clerk nodded his head, said “Yes ma’am, please have a seat”, and scurried off down the hall to a private office. Several minutes had passed before he returned. “Mr. Shafer will be with you in just a moment, ma’am. He asked if he could see you alone first.”

“Anything he wants to discuss can be said in front of my husband.”

“Yes, ma’am,” came the reply, and the clerk once again scurried off down the hall. When he returned he was followed by a tall, thin older gentleman with a mustache. Mr. Shafer, obviously. He reached out and took Caroline’s hand in both of his. “Caroline, dear,” he drawled. “So sorry for the misunderstanding. Please, won’t you join me in my office?” He indicated his office with a sweeping gesture and scowled in Bart’s direction. “This must be your new husband. Morrick, was it?”

“Maverick.” Bart smiled as he said his name. Why was he so irritated by the lawyer’s abrupt dismissal of him? He’d been called all sorts of things in the past and it had never bothered him; maybe he just didn’t like the condescending way that Shafer spoke to Caroline. He extended his hand to the attorney and volunteered “So nice to meet you, Mr. Slater.” Two could play that game and Bart was an old hand at dealing with disgruntled gamblers.

Caroline and Bart followed Shafer into his office and sat across the desk from him. “I assume that you have come to discuss your father's will.”

“That’s correct.”

“I’ve already begun the legal papers necessary to move things along. The only stipulation that he left was that you either be married for at least 30 days or . . . . be . . . . with . . . . .child.” He drew the last words out as slowly as he could manage and seemed to delight in releasing them on Caroline.

Bart swallowed but stayed calm. It was just like five card draw when all you had was a lousy pair of deuces. “No problem. We’ll see which comes first, won’t we?” He smiled that disconcerting Maverick smile and took Caroline’s hand in his. “If that’s all for now we’ll see you in 30 days.”

If Thurgood Shafer was a poker player, then he was a good one. “I certainly expect so,” he replied and his expression never changed. They rose to leave and walked back down the hall. Neither said a word as they got in the buggy and headed for home. Finally, the silence was broken. “He didn’t much like me, did he?”

“It has nothing to do with you. After my father died Mr. Shafer offered to buy the ranch and pay off his  debts. He thought it would be easy to convince me to sell to him since I had no prospects. I would imagine him quite upset to find me married.” Caroline paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully. ”I’m sorry he brought up the ‘with child’ part. There was no need for that. But you seemed to throw it right back at him.”

“Quick-witted,” he chuckled. “Better than being half-witted, which I have been accused of.” The horses’ hoofs on the dirt road were the only sound for the next few minutes. Bart thought about his earlier decision, to tell Caroline the truth of his ‘willingness’ to play along with the marriage, and changed his mind. He was caught in the situation now, and it looked like it would be that way for a while. No sense in making Caroline any more uncomfortable than she already was. He would keep the truth of his commitment to himself.

 


	12. The Ring

Bart was itching for a poker game. It had been several days since he last sat at a table and held the cards and he missed it. Poker wasn’t just a game; it was the very lifeblood that flowed through the Maverick veins. The Maverick ‘addiction’ hadn’t skipped anyone in the clan: Pappy, Uncle Bentley, Bret, Bart or cousin Beau.

Having just returned from town that morning and being married a whole 24 hours didn’t bode well for Bart playing poker anytime soon. Since Samantha was quite adept at both stud and draw, he didn’t think it would take too much to teach Caroline to play. So it was quite natural for him to suggest a card game to the two ladies later that afternoon.

“Really, Bart, did you think that I wouldn’t be able to play poker? With Samantha as a cousin?” Caroline had to suppress a laugh as she asked the question.

“Mmmmm, guess I should have thought of that,” came the reply from Bart.

Samantha once again looked up from her book. Reading was the first time that he had ever seen her do anything even mildly productive. “For real?” Sam asked hopefully.

“You mean money? Of course not.”

Samantha did her best not to look disappointed. Even the prospect of beating a Maverick at poker was enough to set her heart racing. Bart wasn’t the only one who missed adventure and excitement. She had done her best to hide that side of her nature from Caroline, since Caroline seemed to be far more of the ‘lady’ in the family.

“Ladies, shall we?” Bart pulled out a  chair for each of them at the table and stood waiting to help seat them. Always the gentleman, even in times of extreme boredom. At least around the ladies.

Caroline and Sam took their seats and Bart joined them. He shuffled expertly and started to deal. “Stud or draw? Five card or seven?” came the questions.

“Dealers choice,” Sam answered eagerly. “If you won’t play for money, what are the stakes?”

There was silence for a moment while Bart thought of an answer. “Winner gets to ask the losers for a favor.”

“Well, I declare, Mr. Maverick, is that the best you can think of?”

“Right now, yes.” Bart was much too eager to play to put much thought into the winners prize. Besides, when he won, Sam and Caroline would both owe him. He much preferred to be the ‘owee’ rather than the ‘ower.’

Nothing was as he expected. Caroline, while not as good as Samantha, held her own against the two of them. They played most of the afternoon with first Sam, then Bart in the lead. As the light began to fade Caroline went to the kitchen several times, first for a fresh pot of coffee and then to see what she could scrape together for dinner. Bart began craving a smoke but wasn’t about to ask if he could light a cigar. This wasn’t a saloon; it was, at least temporarily, his home.

Sam was the first to break. “That’s all,” she said and got up from the table. “I need some fresh air.”

“Good idea,” Bart chimed in. “I could use a smoke.”

He followed Sam out the door. It was the first time they had been alone together since the evening before the wedding. “You’re behaving quite well for a Maverick,” she announced before sitting down on the porch swing.

“We were civilized at an early age.”

“That’s not what I meant. And you know it.”

Bart raised an eyebrow quizzically and looked at her. “What did you mean?”

She glanced up at him and then averted her gaze. “I mean for someone who was tricked into marriage.”

“Was it a trick?” came back his question.

“No, it wasn’t a trick, I guess. It was a debt; an obligation.” She hesitated before continuing. “But you seem to be handling it just fine.”

Bart put his left foot on the swing and rocked Sam back and forth for a moment. How much to divulge about his feelings? This was Samantha, after all, and no matter how long or how well they knew each other, he would never completely trust her. Even after she had saved his life.

“I’ll survive.” His comment was guarded. He waited to see what was coming next.

“She’s different than me.”

“Yes.”

“Better?”

“Different.” Before Sam could ask him to explain, Caroline had appeared at the door.

“Coming back in? Shall we finish?”

“You two go on,” Sam answered. “I’ve had enough.”

Bart removed his foot from the swing and followed Caroline back inside. _‘One down, one to go,_ ’ he said to himself.

Now that it was just the two of them, Caroline appeared to be a more worthy opponent. “Hmmm.” He had to win. He didn’t relish the thought of marrying and losing at poker in the same two-day period. They played on for quite a while. Whether luck or fate or just bad cards would have it, however, he finally threw down his hand and announced “That’s it. I’m done. I know when I’ve been licked.”

Caroline’s laugh rang out across the room. She had a charming laugh, the kind that made you laugh with her. And he did. “Okay, Mrs. Maverick. At least you’ve upheld our good name.” Sam snorted with laughter herself. “What good name?” she asked.

“I believe you owe me a favor,” Caroline was quick to point out. He groaned inwardly; this was just what he had feared and dreaded. Sam had come inside and drifted off into some other part of the house; they were alone in the room. Time to take his medicine. “You have something in mind?” He braced himself for whatever was going to come next.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Caroline got up and walked over to one of the tables in the room. “This was my fathers and I would appreciate it if you would wear it.” She handed Bart a small box. He opened the lid carefully and found a gold wedding band inside. He picked up the ring and slipped it on his finger. “Why not?” he asked.

She looked pleased. “Thank you. I think it’s appropriate; it will help with the illusion.”

“What about you?”

“I have my mother's ring, I can wear that.”

He nodded in agreement. “Seems fitting.”

She got up from the table. “Well, good night.”

He picked up the deck of cards again and started shuffling. “Good night.” He watched her as she walked up the stairs without looking back. He looked down again at the gold ring on his left hand _. ‘Roped, tied and branded,’_ he thought to himself. _‘Hog-tied,’_ corrected Bret’s voice.


	13. Trouble Begins

Days passed, slowly at first and then with mounting speed. After the first week, Samantha couldn’t sit still any longer and left for St. Louis. Bart and Caroline settled into a routine. Most mornings he got up and worked with the ranch hands, doing whatever was necessary to keep everything running smoothly. After lunch he would take a short nap and decide whether he was going to the Dry Springs Silver Dollar Saloon to play poker or stay at the ranch with Caroline. With ever increasing frequency, he found himself spending the afternoons and evenings ‘at home’ with Caroline. It felt comfortable.

When a month had gone by they went back to town to see Thurgood Shafer. The second meeting was not any more pleasant than the first, with Shafer visibly disappointed that Bart was still in the picture. Good to his word, however, he had prepared the documents needed to move the estate settlement forward. Bart was pleased that they had ‘outwaited’ the attorney.

They were driving to the general store when Bart could no longer ignore a rising feeling of dread. He pulled up in front of the telegram office and turned to Caroline. “Something’s wrong. I need to find my brother.” Caroline nodded her head and Bart jumped down and stepped inside.

“I need to send a telegram to Denver,” he told the clerk as he penciled in the message.

_Are you still there?_

_Everything alright?_

_Bart_

He handed the clerk money and turned to go outside. “I’ll be in tomorrow to see if there’s an answer.”

He climbed back into the wagon and drove up the street slowly, stopping in front of the general store. As usual Bart helped Caroline down and she went inside with a list. “Mr. Maverick! Mr. Maverick!” the telegraph clerk came running down the street after him. “You have a telegram! It just came in!”

Bart grabbed the paper out of the clerk’s hands.

_Dearest Cousin-In-Law – Can’t find Bret._

_Was supposed to meet him in Denver and he never showed._

_Worried sick._

_Samantha_

Bart thanked the clerk and hurried into the store. “All done?” He asked Caroline, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. There must be an excellent reason for Bret’s no-show; it wasn’t like him to stand up a lady. Especially one that looked like Samantha. If he was on a winning streak somewhere he would have found a way to let her know he would be delayed.

Caroline heard the tension in his question and turned. “Yes, Bart. What’s wrong?”

“I’ll tell you outside.” He gathered up the supplies and loaded them in the wagon. Caroline climbed up on the seat by herself. Bart jumped in swiftly and urged the horses forward. “I’ve had a feeling something wasn’t right for a few days, but I tried to ignore it. I sent a telegram to Bret in Denver and your cousin answered. Bret never showed up.”

Caroline looked at him inquisitively. “I take it that’s not normal?”

“No. If there was a good reason, he would have let Sam know he wasn’t coming. Just not showing up is not his style. Something’s happened to him.”

“Then you have to go find him,” Caroline told him quietly.

They rode in silence for several minutes while Bart pondered his next move. “You’re right. I have to go find him.” He pushed the horses into a gallop and they went rattling down the dusty road.

As soon as they reached the ranch Bart dropped Caroline and the supplies off at the front door and took the wagon to the barn. He saddled his horse and rode back to the house. His long legs carried him inside and he ran upstairs to pack a bag. As he emerged from his room Caroline came up the stairs. Without thinking, he pulled her to him in a long kiss. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find him. I’ll send Sam home right away. Be careful and stay safe until I get back.”

He was halfway down the stairs before he realized that he had kissed her. Bart turned back and looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. “I’m sorry.” There was a mixture of sadness and regret in his voice.

“I’m not,” she replied evenly. “Go!”

He hesitated for a moment before continuing on down. Caroline watched him go out the front door and heard his horse ride away. She shuddered and a wave of apprehension washed over her. _‘Please, I just found him,’_ was all she could think.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	14. One of Our Mavericks is Missing

Riding as hard as he could for as long as he could stay in the saddle, it still took Bart 6 days to get to Denver. When he arrived it was around 3 a.m. and he was dirty, tired and saddle sore. He went straight to the Denver Palace Hotel where Samantha was staying and Bret was supposed to be. He asked for a room and signed in while he queried the night clerk: “Has Bret Maverick checked in? Have you gotten any telegrams from him? And what room is Samantha Crawford in?”

The answers were “No, no and 218.”  He dragged himself upstairs to his room and threw his bag and saddlebags on the chair. Then he unbuckled his gun belt and added it to the pile. He took two steps to the bed and crashed down on the covers face first. He was asleep in an instant. Much as he wanted to start looking for Bret immediately he knew he was useless without rest.

Someone was knocking on the door and light was streaming in the window. Bart shook his head to try and clear the cobwebs and trail dust and managed to say “Just a minute.” He hadn’t moved since stumbling into the bed and he had to roll over to get up. Still groggy from the sleep he had just woken from, he found his way to the door. “Who is it?”

“Well I declare, who else would it be?” came the honeyed words. “Bart Maverick, don’t make me stand out here in the hall like a stranger!” Samantha stamped her foot as he opened the door. “My Lord, don’t you look a fright! You need a bath!”

“Mmmhhhmm,” was all he could get out. There was silence for a moment while Samantha awkwardly stood outside the door in the hallway. “Well, can I come in or have you taken leave of your manners as well as your hygiene?”

In answer, he opened the door wider and held it for Sam. She flounced past him into the room and looked for a place to sit down. Not finding one, she perched on the side of the bed that had just been vacated. It was still warm. “Wash your face, for goodness sake! You look like you rode through a dust storm!”

“Several,” he barely managed a whisper. His throat was raw and his eyelids felt like lead. He made his way to the wash basin sitting on the dresser and did his best to wash his face. As he wiped off with the hand towel, he turned to face her. His head was slowly clearing. “Bret.” The name came out somewhere between a croak and a question. “Have you heard from Bret?”

“No.” There was a note of genuine alarm in her voice. “And you know that’s not like him.” She paused for a moment, considering her words. “I assume that’s why you’re here?”

“Why else?” He wondered what she was really asking.

She weighed her next words carefully. “How are you and Caroline getting along?”

“Fine,” he snapped back at her. He hadn’t ridden like a mad man for almost a week just to have Samantha ask how he and her cousin were doing. “Tell me what you know about Bret.”

She looked slightly chastened as she folded her hands together. “He asked me to meet him in Denver on the 15th. There’s supposed to be some big game going on here at the end of the month. So I got here early and waited.” She paused for a moment. “Honestly, that’s all I know. Until I saw your telegram to Bret, I just thought he got delayed. In a poker game. Or such.” Her voice got very still. “But that was almost a week ago and there still isn’t any sign of him.”

“Something’s happened,” Bart stated the obvious. He wiped the towel over his neck and hair and dropped it back on the dresser. “Where did his telegram come from?”

Samantha thought for a minute before answering. “I didn’t pay any attention.”

“Was that the first time you’d heard from him?”

“In a while, yes. I was busy with another matter,” she cleared her throat slightly, hoping that Bart wouldn’t ask what. “Then out of the blue his message came. How could I resist? The Mavericks and the Crawfords are kin.” Pause. “Now.” She remembered his threat of long ago, that the Mavericks would be better off to keep her in the family.

He crossed the room to his bag and looked at her. “Give me a few minutes, I’ll meet you in the dining room and we can figure out where to go from there.”

Samantha got up from the bed and stopped at the door. “Hurry.”

He nodded in agreement. “I will.”


	15. Two Steps Forward

Sam took a sip of her coffee and watched Bart stride across the lobby. In a few minutes he had managed to clean up and change clothes and no longer looked like something the cat wouldn’t drag in. She poured him a cup as he sat down and motioned the waitress over to the table. “Bring me everything,” he told the young woman, who scurried off to tell the cook she had a starving man waiting for breakfast.

He took the coffee from Samantha gratefully and downed it quickly. “Been thinking about the message you got. Are you sure about the dates on it?”

“Of course,” Sam replied querulously. She started to say something else and stopped herself. “Why, what are you thinking?”

“I asked the desk clerk. No one knows anything about a big poker game, now or at the end of the month. If they do, they’re not talking” He poured another cup of coffee. “I’ll check all the saloons and see what I can find out. In the meantime, you can ask at the marshal’s office and the newspaper. If we can’t find any poker game, then we have a different problem.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both contemplating the implications of his last sentence. If there was no poker game, had Bret actually sent Samantha the telegram? Why? If he hadn’t sent the telegram, who did? Why did they want Bart and Samantha in Denver? And where was Brother Bret?

“You think something’s happened, don’t you?” Just at that moment the waitress chose to bring heaping plates of food to Bart. He looked at the food, then at Samantha, and raised an eyebrow. “Please tell me you haven’t had breakfast.”

“And be forced to pay for it myself? Of course not!” Even with the grim situation Bart chuckled. He made a sweeping gesture. “Then by all means, please eat.”

After finishing as much as they could, Bart and Sam left the dining room and started on their assignments. Bart went from saloon to saloon, talking to most of the barkeeps and some of the poker players. Sam, meanwhile, flirted shamelessly with both the marshal (a very handsome fellow named  Clem) and his deputy (a not very handsome fellow named Isiah) until they had to admit that if there was a big game coming, they didn’t know anything about it. Neither did the newspaper editor, a rather smallish older man. She didn’t bother to get his name.

As she was leaving the printing press operator stopped her. “Miss, I heard you asking about a poker game. Do you mind telling me why?”

“A friend of mine was expected here for a big game and he hasn’t shown up. Do you know anything that might help me find him?”

“Well, I’m not rightly sure.” The man didn’t look like someone who would know much of anything. Never the less Samantha smiled sweetly at him and stated “Anything might help.”

“There was supposed to be a game at the Denver Palace Hotel sometime this month, but it got canceled. Reckon that’s the game you’re looking for?”

She nodded her head vigorously. “That’s it. Why was it canceled?”

“Well, to hear tell they couldn’t get enough fellers interested in it. There was a $5,000.00 entrance fee and money seems a tad hard to come by these days.”

That made sense to Samantha, but she couldn’t imagine that Bret couldn’t or wouldn’t have been able to come up with an entrance fee that size. If he wanted to. “Thank you, sir. You’ve been most helpful.”

He tipped his visor at her. “Yes, ma’am. Glad to help. Hope you find your friend.”

Samantha hastened back to the Denver Palace and up to Bart’s room. She knocked, but there was no response. “Bart Maverick, aren’t you done yet? How many saloons are there in this city?” Since the hall was empty Sam had no one to ask but herself. She went back to her room and waited. About 20 minutes later there was a knock on her door.

“Really, Bart, I got some . . . . . “her voice trailed off as she opened the door to find Isiah the deputy marshal standing there. “Miss Crawford, you better come with me.”

“Why? Where? What happened?” came out in one long question.

“There’s been a fight at the Golden Mountain Saloon and I’m afraid your friend Maverick was hurt. Not bad, just knocked around some. He’s over at Doc Turner’s place right now. Marshal sent me over to fetch you.”

Sam stepped into the hall and slammed the door behind her. “Let’s go, “she urged the deputy to turn around and lead her to Bart. Down the stairs and out the door, it took some time to get to the Doctor’s office. The first thing she heard was a loud “Youch!” and knew the yelp had come from Bart. She burst through the back room door and found Bart holding a hand to the side of his head. “Hi, Sam” was the next thing to come out of his mouth. The doctor was holding a piece of glass.

“Here, let me see that,” the doctor told Bart. Bart lowered his hand and Samantha saw the trickle of blood running down his neck. “Missy, you better get back to the waiting room before you faint or something. Can’t tend to two of you at the same time.”

“Yes sir,” Samantha answered weakly. Never argue with a doctor was one lesson that Sam had learned the hard way.

The deputy was gone, having ‘done his duty’ and gotten her there. It was several minutes before Bart walked out of the doctor’s office, a bandage on the side of his head where the blood and glass had been. “Good thing the Mavericks are hard-headed,” he volunteered.

“Are you the misses?” Doc Turner asked. “Yes,” Sam lied. The lie seemed easier than explaining the situation. “Keep your husband out of saloon fights!” was the doctor’s reply. “And you, young man,” here he turned to Bart, “are old enough to know better.”

“Yes, sir.” Bart did his best to look solemn as he reached for Samantha’s arm. “Come on, honeybunch, let’s go back to the hotel.”

She started to say something to Bart and then thought better of it. Best to wait for privacy.  



	16. Painful Reality

They walked slowly back to Bart’s room. Every now and then he reached up to touch the bandage as if checking to see if it was still there. Each touch made him wince in pain. Once inside Bart laid down on the bed and closed his eyes. “Hurts,” he muttered.

“Of course it hurts.” Sam looked down at him and wondered what had caused the fight. “What happened?”

“Still trying to make sense of that” was his reply. Then silence from Bart. Sam waited patiently for a few minutes and wondered if he had fallen asleep. “Bart?”

“Hhhhmmm?”

“What happened?”

“Was talking to a man at the bar. Nice friendly chat, until I mentioned the game. Got hostile and wouldn’t say anymore.”

“And?”

“Turned away. When I tried to find out why, he told me to leave him alone. I didn’t. Then he took a swing at me. Next thing I know the whole place was a mess. Tried to get away and got knocked over the head with a bottle.”  
  
Sam hesitated for a moment, not knowing if Bart would hear her or not. “I found out something. The game had a $5,000.00 ‘entry fee’ and there weren’t enough interested players.”

“Why?” His voice was barely audible. “Wouldn’t stop Bret.”

Samantha realized that Bart was no longer awake. She sat in his room for a while, watching him sleep and wondering what kind of mess the Mavericks and Crawfords were now in. Finally she stood up, leaned over Bart and kissed him on the forehead. “Good night, sweet prince,” she whispered. Then she left the room.

 


	17. More Questions Than Answers

The door to the marshal’s office swung open slowly. Bart entered almost as slowly. “Good morning, Marshal.”

Clem looked up from his desk and nodded. “Morning, Mr. Maverick. How’s the head?”

“It’s been better. Anything new from the prisoner?”

“Not a word. Don’t know what to tell you. Jasper Cole isn’t the kind to start bar fights.” The marshal paused for a moment. “Want some coffee?”

Bart started to nod ‘Yes’ and thought better about the nodding part. “Thanks.” He walked over to the corner of the office, grabbed a mug and poured. He held the pot up and asked Clem “Refill?”

“Sure.” Bart walked over to Clem’s desk and filled his cup. He returned the pot, walked back to the desk and pulled out a chair. “What kind is he?” Bart asked.

“Generally a good man. Doesn’t drink, gamble, cause trouble. Don’t know what got into him last night. What were you two talking about?”

“Nothing unusual. Until I mentioned the canceled poker game. Then he clammed up and got ugly.”

“Yeah, about that game. Talked to a few people after the brawl. Seems that it was canceled before it really got started. Too rich for most people’s blood. Why did you want to know about it?”

“My brother Bret was supposed to be here for it. He didn’t show and we’re trying to find him.”

“We?”

“Me and Samantha Crawford. She’s our cousin. Sort of.” Trying to explain the Mavericks relationship with Sam was not easy. “Mind if I try talking to Mr. Cole now that he can’t do any more damage?”

“Be my guest. He’s the only one here.” The marshal looked at  his coffee and sat back in his chair. “Maybe he’ll talk to you.”

Bart nodded and walked back to the occupied cell. For once he was on the outside instead of the inside. Jasper Cole was lying with his back turned to Bart. “Mr. Cole, it’s Bart Maverick. We were talking last night and I still have some questions for you.” There was no response. “Mr. Cole, it won’t do any good to ignore me. I’m not going away until I get answers.”

“Gonna stand there for a long time.” It was the first thing from Jasper Cole since the night before. “Got nothin’ to say to you.”

“You got anything to say to my head?” Bart asked plaintively.

Silence. “What is it about that game that makes everyone forgetful?” Still more silence. Bart stood there for a minute and leaned his forehead against the bars. There was a pleading tone in his voice. “Look, all I’m trying to do is find out what happened to my brother. I don’t care about the game. What caused it, what stopped it, or why it was stopped. Just my brother. That’s all.”

“Can’t help you.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Jasper Cole rolled over and sat up on the cot. “What difference does it make?”

“Could be a big difference if Bret’s in trouble.”

“Hmpf,” Cole snorted. “Don’t make no difference to me.” He stared at Bart through unsympathetic  eyes. “How long you gonna stand there?”

Bart was becoming increasingly frustrated. “Until the marshal opens the cell and you either give me some answers or I beat them out of you.” He clenched and unclenched his fists, ready to thrash Jasper if he had to. It took a lot to anger either of the Mavericks, but Bart was quicker to temper than Bret. And he’d had enough of this man.

Jasper looked at Bart again and seemed to deflate.  Maybe it was the prospect of a beating, maybe he was just tired of Bart’s questions. Or tired of Bart. Either way the tone of his voice changed. “Go talk to my brother Fred at the telegraph office. He can answer your questions. Don’t know why he did what he did anyway.” He dropped back to his cot and looked up with something approaching regret. “Sorry about the head.”

Bart looked at the man through the bars. “I’ll heal.” He turned away and walked back to the marshal's desk. “Any help?” Clem asked.

“Another piece of the puzzle,” Bart answered. “Thanks for your help.”

“No trouble.”

Bart walked out of the office and closed the door behind him. It was very early and still quiet when he first went in, but now the city had come alive. There were horses and carriages and wagons everywhere, with people making their way across town. He started walking up the street and hadn’t gone far before he heard a familiar voice.

“Up awfully early for an injured man.” Samantha looked beautiful as usual. “Didn’t take you long to recuperate. Or is your head just that hard?”

Bart had to laugh, which made him wince in pain. “Not as hard as I’d like it to be. I have to go to the telegraph office. Are you coming with me?”

“Of course, darlin’. I’m going to follow you around and keep you out of trouble.” There was both affection and teasing in her voice. It was the affection that made him look at her strangely. Did Sam care more than she let on? Or was he misreading her? His head hurt too much to give it any further thought. Besides, they were finally getting somewhere. He turned back up the street and hurried off with Sam close at his heels.


	18. Mrs. Morrick

Caroline didn’t realize how much she had come to depend on Bart until he left. The ranch hands came to her with questions he usually answered. The house was quiet and empty. She found herself standing at the door to his room several times and wondered what she was doing. Would it smell like him if she went in? What was wrong with her?

A week later she could stand it no longer and went into town. She took the buggy rather than the wagon because this was more of a social visit than a necessary one. She stopped first at the stagecoach office to see if there was any mail. Nothing. Then she drove to the telegraph office, hoping for any kind of message, but wanting one that told her all was well and he was coming home. Nothing there either. She dropped in at Mrs. Miller’s dress shop but nothing could capture her attention. Finally, she stopped at Mrs. Lerner’s house and had tea with Maude Lerner. She sort of had tea with Maude, not able to concentrate on much of anything that Mrs. Lerner had to say. Until she heard “ . . . have you heard anything that I’ve said?”

“I’m sorry, Maude,” she shook her head apologetically. “What was that?”

“That’s what I thought,” Maude said smugly. “When Celeste Hoffman said that you couldn’t be in love when you got married I told her she was crazy as a June bug. And you just proved my point.” She gazed steadily at Caroline. “Well, at least you picked a fine looking one to moon over.”

Bart’s image flashed through Caroline’s mind and she felt herself flush. “Yes, he is attractive,” she acknowledged. _‘A fine figure of a man,’_ she thought. “And kind,” she added as an afterthought. She was surprised at the depth of her longing for him. There had been only one kiss, and that as he was worried and in a hurry to leave. She shuddered slightly. What would happen when he returned? What if he couldn’t find his brother? What if he did and decided not to come back? She needed to see and talk to Mr. Shafer. She really needed to see Bart and speak to him about all these feelings she was having, but Shafer was closer and easier to reach. She finished her tea with Maude as quickly as possible and made her excuses for leaving. The next minute she was in the buggy headed for Thurgood Shafer’s office.

She had to wait for Shafer as he was in discussions with a client when she arrived. She sat in the front office and fidgeted, not able to be still or concentrate on anything. When he was finally ready to see her she wasn’t sure what to ask him, so she started with an ambiguous question: “How is the estate coming along?”

“Slower than expected, I’m afraid. One of the men that hold paper from your father has been to see me several times and seemed very upset that the estate was still being processed. He even seemed threatening the last time he was here.” Shafer glanced around the room, looking for something. Or someone. “Where’s Mr. Morrick?”

Caroline ignored the deliberate slap at Bart. “In Denver on business. Who was this that was upset about my father’s debts?”

“Lon Tenley. He owns the land just over the rise from yours. When your father passed on he was interested in purchasing your land. Thought he’d have the inside track since Mr. Crawford owed him money.  He seemed very disturbed to learn that you’d married and would be settling the debt. A most impatient man.”

Caroline proceeded cautiously. “When was the last time you saw him?”

Shafer thought back. “Monday, this last week. He came in and asked again about the ranch.  Seemed to be of the opinion that you might have changed your mind. Said something about ‘now that she’s alone again.’ Didn’t seem too concerned when I told him that you and your husband had no intention of selling. Mumbled something like ‘we’ll see about that’ and left in a hurry.”

She didn’t like the way this seemed to be going, but before she could say anything Mr. Shafer asked, “And when are you expecting Mr. Morrick to return?” Now Shafer was doing it deliberately.

“Maverick,” she corrected. “I’m not sure. The matter in Denver came up suddenly and may take some time. That’s why I stopped in to check on the estate. I’d like to get it settled as soon as possible.” _‘To find out if he’s going to stay’_ she thought.

“I assure you, I’m doing everything in my power to move things along.”

She doubted his sincerity but didn’t say so. “I appreciate that, Mr. Shafer, I truly do. I’m sure my husband does too.” _‘More than you might think’_ her mind added silently. “Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time. Thank you very much.” Caroline rose to go and Shafer rose with her. “Caroline, my dear, anything I can do to help. Your father was a dear friend of mine and I know he wanted you to be happy.”

_‘But would he have been?_ ’ Caroline wondered. Her mind was racing as she left the office and climbed into her buggy. Bart was smart, sweet, loyal, good-looking, hard-working, funny, and brave (no matter what he said about being a coward). And a gambler and con man who had probably caroused with many women (possibly including her own cousin) who never put down roots anywhere. Was that the kind of man that her father wanted her married to? She was sure his answer would have been “No.”  But she was rapidly coming to the conclusion that her answer was “Yes.”

 


	19. The Reluctant Mr. Cole

Bart and Samantha were getting nowhere fast with Fred Cole. First he was too busy to talk to them; too many telegrams coming in and going out. They waited impatiently. Once business slowed down he simply ignored them.

Sam finally ran out of patience. She crossed the room to the counter that Fred stood behind and smiled her most beguiling smile. “Please sir,” came that honeyed voice, “I need you. You’re the only one who can help me in this whole little ole world. I just don’t know what I will do if  . . . “  Samantha’s voice trailed off and she dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. “I’m just so desperate.”

No man alive could resist Samantha Crawford when she put her mind to it, and Fred Cole was no exception. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, but it’s been awfully busy.” He was visibly melting before her eyes. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, sir, we” here she indicated Bart with a nod of her head, ”spoke to your brother and he told us to come see you.”

Now he smiled at her wholeheartedly. This beautiful woman needed him!

“It’s about the big poker game.” With just six words his entire countenance changed. The smile left his face and his body stiffened. Absolute adoration was replaced by grim determination. “Don’t know nothin’ about that.” His words carried such a tone of hostility that Bart moved towards Sam protectively. What was going on?

The sweet syrupy tone never left Sam’s voice and she slid away from Bart’s side. “Oh now, Mr. Cole. Fred. May I call you Fred? Jasper promised that you could help us.” She turned on every ounce of charm that she had. This was harder than she expected. “I can count on you, can’t I?”

Bart was about to say something when Sam elbowed him. Since his head still pounded from the night before, he wasn’t inclined to argue with a sharp jab to the ribs.

“Can’t discuss anything here,” Fred Cole all but hissed.  “Meet me at Barkers Boarding House Café at 6.” He lowered his voice considerably. “I’ll answer your questions. And don’t bring him with you.” He indicated Bart with a snarl and nod of his head.

If Bart hadn’t been so tired of being thwarted  at every turn and so desperate to find his brother he would have taken a swing at Cole. He paid attention to Bret in his head when he whispered, ‘ _Settle down, Brother Bart. Remember what Pappy always said about flies and whiskey.’_

Sam was glad to feel the tension in Bart’s body dissipate. This was a situation that she could more than handle – it involved manipulating a man. She bestowed a radiant smile on Fred Cole and indicated her agreement. “I look forward to seeing you at 6.” She grabbed Bart’s hand and drug him out the door of the telegraph office with her.

“I don’t like it,” Bart growled as soon as they were outside with the door closed behind them. “Why is everything about this poker game so secret? What’s everyone hiding?” He stopped long enough to light a cigar and take several puffs of it. “And I don’t like the thought of you walking into trouble without me. Bret’s MY brother, after all.”

Samantha looked at him tolerantly. She wasn’t about to explain to Bart what his brother meant to her. Sometimes she wasn’t sure herself which brother was her favorite. But since Bart was off the market she preferred to concentrate on finding Bret. “Trust me, I can handle Fred Cole. Besides, you’ll be right outside if I need you.”

“Hmmppff,” came the reply. He hated admitting that Sam was right. He looked up and down the street to see if anyone was paying any attention to them. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He pulled the remains of the cigar from his mouth and threw it into the street. “Coffee and a newspaper. Let’s go.”

Bart turned on his heel and headed back to the hotel. Sam followed obediently. As obedient as she could, the list of questions for Fred Cole already forming in her mind.

 


	20. Research

The afternoon passed quickly, with Bart downing cup after cup of coffee and scouring every newspaper he could get his hands on. There was one small line in the “Colorado Tribune” that caught his eye. ‘The Poker Tournament scheduled for late this month has been canceled.’ That was all. No explanation, nothing that a news-starved brother could grab on to. Where was Bret? Was he in some kind of trouble or was Bart jumping to conclusions? He sat with the newspaper open in his hands and let his mind wander. He kept imagining all sorts of predicaments, not unusual considering the life that the brothers had led thus far.  It took him a moment to realize that Sam was talking to him.

“ . . . . . don’t you think that will work?”

“Sorry. Not paying attention. What did you say?”

She was perturbed. It was bad enough that she had nothing more to do than sit here while he scanned the papers; it was worse that he wasn’t even listening to her. “I said that I was going to play the worried sister for Mr. Cole. Don’t you think that will work?”

He gave it some thought, then smiled. “I’m sure that he’ll fall prey to your charms like every other man on this planet.” Pause. “Just don’t overplay the hand. He’s the only lead we have.”

She practically snorted back at him. “When have I overplayed my hand?”

“How much time do we have?”

She shook her head stubbornly and glared back at him. “You’re one to talk. If you hadn’t overplayed your hand, you wouldn’t be sitting here with that ring on your finger. Or my cousin waiting in Dry Springs.” She shook her head again. “Don’t you worry about me, Bart Maverick. I took care of myself long before you came and I’ll still be taking care of myself long after you’re gone.” She stopped before she said anything that she might come to regret.

It suddenly dawned on Bart that Caroline WAS sitting at the ranch waiting for him. She’d been on his mind earlier but since arriving in Denver too much had happened to think of anything but finding Bret. Now he hung his head guiltily and Sam’s words stung him. He got up and walked over to the front desk. “Can you send a telegram for me, please?” He wasn’t going to return to the telegraph office and risk Fred Cole’s disdain.

“Yes, sir. Just write your message on this paper and we’ll get it right over there.” The desk clerk handed him a blank telegram form and Bart took it and went to the writing-table _._

_No sign of Bret._

_Still searching._

_Sam is with me._

_Bart_

He put the fountain pen down and thought for a moment. Was there something else to say? Probably not in a telegram, he decided. Whatever was on his mind could wait until he got back to the Crawford ranch. If he had thought any further it might have occurred to him that he was going back to the ranch, and to Caroline. After they found Bret.

 


	21. He's a Man

Friday morning dawned bright and clear, another perfect day everywhere except the Crawford Double C Ranch. No matter where Caroline went a cloud seemed to hang over her head. It was more than two weeks since Bart left and there was no word from him. She had weeded the flower beds, sewn new curtains for her bedroom and visited again with Maude Lerner. She even went to see Celeste Hoffman and her three sisters, a group of chatty gossips who could only keep her distracted for a short period of time. Every time she went into town she stopped at the stage coach and telegram offices and hoped for some letter or telegram from him. Every time she was disappointed. The last thing she expected that morning was to see Lon Tenley riding up to her house. But ride up he did, slowly dismounting and tying his horse’s reins to the hitching post. He tipped his hat to her and mounted the steps to her porch.

“Morning, ma’am. I went into Dry Springs to see if I could speak with Thurgood Shafer but he was out of town. So I thought I might just ride out to your ranch myself.” He looked around the house and porch appreciatively. “I see that you’ve been keeping busy. How are you getting along with your husband gone?”

She was startled both by his appearance on her property and the implication in his words. He made it sound like Bart had left her for good. Did he know something that she didn’t? Was she lonely and afraid and imagining things? Or was there some reason other than neighborliness for his visit? “I’ve been just fine, thank you, Mr. Tenley. Was there something that you wanted?” She was in no mood to deal with a man whose reputation was unpleasant at best.

He cleared his throat and tried to sound as friendly as he could. “Why yes, Miss Crawford, I’m sure you know that I held paper on your father. I was hoping that I could persuade you to sell me the Double C for cash and the money on the note.”

There was stony silence while she weighed his words. “The estate will be settled soon, Mr. Tenley. There’s more than enough money to pay off my father’s debt. I have no interest in selling the ranch.” She paused for effect and to keep her rising anger in check. Didn’t this man ever give up? “And it’s Mrs. Maverick now.”

A cruel grin spread across his face and a facetious tone crept into his voice. “Ah yes, the missing husband. Maverick, you said? Isn’t he some kind of cardsharp? Not really good husband material, I’m afraid. And where did you say he was?”

She stood up from the porch swing and looked him straight in the eyes. “I didn’t.”

He tapped his finger on his chin thoughtfully. “Ah yes, I remember now. Denver, I heard. And with your cousin Samantha, if I remember correctly. Beautiful young woman, that Samantha Crawford. Very seductive. Could tempt any man.” He shook his head in sympathy. “And you so newly married. Seems a real shame. Yes sir, it really does.” He stopped and looked at her mournfully. “Well, when this place gets to be too much for you, let me know. I’ll be more than happy to take it off your hands. For a fair price, too.” Before she could say a word he tipped his hat, turned down the steps and untied and mounted his horse. “Good day, Mrs. Maverick,” he all but sneered at her. And with that, he left.

Caroline didn’t know whether to run after him or shoot him. She considered both until he was too far down the road to do either, then she thought about what he had implied. Bart and Samantha. That had never occurred to her. Caroline believed Sam when she explained that Bart was an old friend who just wanted to help any way he could. Now she wondered _‘_ _How old a friend, and how good?’_

It was obvious that Bart Maverick was far more proficient at navigating around the ladies than Caroline had at first thought. The way he smiled at them - always polite and helpful, no matter how young or old. He made every woman he came in contact with feel important and unique. And she saw the way they looked at him in return.

_‘Stop it,’_ she thought _. ‘He’s not like that.’_

_‘How do you know that? You don’t really know him, do you?’_

_‘He’s a good man.’_ She shuddered involuntarily _._

_‘He’s a man,_ ’ came the reply. _‘And your cousin is a fine looking woman who already knew him.’_

She sank back down onto the porch swing as she argued with herself. _‘I will not let a stranger give me wicked thoughts about Bart.’_

_‘Too late’_ was the only thing that came to mind. Maybe it was time to send her own telegram and find out why Sam was still in Denver. Instead of the ranch with Caroline.

“That’s what I’ll do,” she finally said out loud. “I’ll send a wire.”

 


	22. An Unexpected Answer

At exactly 5:30 Bart and Samantha arrived at Barkers Boarding House Café. Bart wanted to take a good look at the place and make sure Samantha wouldn’t be in danger. Once he was satisfied that it was nothing more than an ordinary café he felt better about the prospect of letting her handle the questioning.

“I’m going across the street. After Fred Cole gets here, I’ll be outside if you need me.” She heard the grim tone of his voice and stifled an uncomfortable laugh. He looked at her solemnly. “I’m serious, Samantha. Bret’s life may very well be in your hands.”

She looked as chastened as she could ever get. “I know.” Pause. “I’ll find out whatever he’s not telling us.”

Under normal circumstances, Bart had complete faith in her ability to wheedle all necessary information from any man, as long as he had a pulse. But this wasn’t normal circumstances. His brother was missing and Bart didn’t have a clue other than Jasper Cole’s offhand remark in the jail. The thought of Jasper made him reach up and rub the bandage on his head. He winced in pain.

“Be careful,” was all he said as he turned and walked across the street.

Samantha watched him go for a moment and then entered the café. She took a seat at a table all the way in the back of the room and asked for tea. She’d had more than enough coffee for the day.

A few minutes after 6 o’clock the door opened and Fred Cole entered. He looked much older than he had at the telegraph office and less likely to give her a hard time. She visibly brightened so that he would be assured she was pleased to see him. “Mr. Cole, I’m so happy that you came.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied sheepishly. He didn’t sound anything like the person that she had talked to earlier in the day. “Coffee,” he said to the young lady who came to the table. “I still don’t know how I can help you.”

Samantha smiled at him and kept her voice deliberately discreet. “As I said this morning, I’m trying to get information about the poker game that was canceled. You know the big one with the $5,000.00 fee attached.” She waited while the waitress brought Fred’s coffee to the table. “Why was it canceled?”

“Can’t say for certain. Rumor was that there wasn’t enough interest to make it worthwhile.” He paused long enough to make Sam wonder if he had anything else to say. Then he continued quietly, “But I have heard that it may be gathering steam enough to start up again. Next month, mebbe.”

She wasn’t interested in rumors about the game restarting. “How long ago was it canceled?”

He thought for a moment before answering. “Three, mebbe four weeks ago.” Before she had ever left St. Louis for Denver. None of what he was telling her made sense. Why would Bret ask her to meet him in Denver if the game had already been canceled? Then a thought occurred to her and she hurriedly asked, “Your brother said you did something that he didn’t understand. Did it have anything to do with the game?”

He blinked and looked down at his coffee.  “Not really.” She waited for him to explain.

He sat perfectly still and kept his eyes down. “I owed somebody. He told me he’d forgive the debt if I sent a telegram for him. That’s all.” 

Samantha considered this for a moment before continuing, “Who did you send the telegram to?”

A minute passed, then two and Sam waited patiently for an answer. Finally he looked her in the eye and mumbled “You.”

 

 

 


	23. No Delivery

Caroline didn’t bother with the buggy. She was in a hurry to get to town. She saddled up a horse in the barn and led him over to the hitching post in front of the house. She ran inside and quickly changed into a riding skirt and shirt and grabbed her hat on the way out of her bedroom. She practically flew down the steps and out the door, untying her horse’s reins and mounting in one continuous motion.

Traveling at a full gallop, it didn’t take Caroline long to get to Dry Springs. A small boy and his dog dashed out of her way as she tore down Main Street. Something had taken hold of her and made it necessary to get to the telegraph office as fast as possible.

She was almost as breathless as her horse when she skidded to a halt outside the office door. Trying to regain her composure, she sat still in the saddle for a moment and then dismounted. She straightened her skirt slightly and tied her horse to the railing. Then she walked quickly inside.

As usual, Jeb Conroy was manning the telegraph desk. “Why hello, Mrs. Maverick,” he greeted her warmly as she came through the door. “What brings you to town today?”

“I need to send a telegram to Denver.” She tried to make her voice sound nonchalant like it wasn’t the most important thing in the world right now. “To my husband.”

“Yes ma’am,” he answered. He got up from his desk and brought her a blank form. “Say, did you ever get that telegram that came for you?”

His casual tone startled her. “What telegram?”

“Oh, about a week back a wire arrived for you. I hadn’t seen you in town that day so I gave it to Billy Errington and told him to take it out to your ranch. I kept him busy most of the day so I never got a chance to ask him if he delivered it. You did get it, didn’t you?”

Caroline was stunned. “No, I never got a telegram. Who was it from?”

He looked at her curiously. “Why, your husband, ma’am. Mr. Maverick. From Denver. You kept coming in looking for a wire and I didn’t see you after we got it, so I figured Billy’d delivered it. I’ll have to tan his hide for not doing his job.” That was going to be difficult, as Billy Errington was a strapping young 16-year-old and Jeb would fit handily under his armpit.

“Do you remember what it said?” Caroline was afraid to ask and afraid not to ask.

“Not exactly, ma’am.” Jeb concentrated with all his might and finally shook his head. “Best as I can remember it was about still looking for someone and being with Sam. That would be your cousin Samantha, wouldn’t it?”

Caroline gulped and nodded silently. What had it said exactly? Why didn’t she get the wire? Were the fears that Lon Tenley had instilled in her just that morning true? _‘Get hold of yourself, Caroline,’_ she thought.

“Do you remember if it said anything about a hotel? In Denver, I mean. So I can send a wire back.”

“Let me think.” Jeb wasn’t a nosy sort of person, but he had a decent memory. Caroline knew that if she was patient with him, he would reward her with an answer. It was just that patience was in short supply for Caroline right now.

“Let’s see . . . .hmm . . . I think it was . . . no, that’s not right . . . . maybe the Golden Horseshoe? No, wait, it was the Denver Palace. That’s it, the Denver Palace.” He was sure, now. “Yes ma’am, it was the Denver Palace Hotel.” Caroline rewarded him with a smile. “Thanks, Jeb. Now I’m sure where to send this.” She scribbled a brief message.

_Any word yet?_

_Send Sam home._

She had started to sign _‘Caroline’_ and then added _‘I miss you’_ instead. Maybe it was a mistake to add the last line but it was one she was willing to make. She handed the form back to Jeb. “Send that right away, please?”

“Yes ma’am, I surely will. And if you decide to talk to Billy I just sent him over to the Reverend Baker’s house with a letter. And you can depend on me to give him what for.” Jeb’s tone was solemn and reassuring. He looked at her and once again intoned “Yes, Billy is in trouble.”

“Thank you, Jeb. You’re a real asset to this town.” Caroline meant her words. Jeb did his best to see that everyone in the town was taken care of. She didn’t doubt that he would “give Billy what for” when Billy returned. She had no interest in anything at that exact moment other than finding Billy and seeing if he had read the telegram and remembered anything more than Jeb did. She paid Jeb for the services and returned to her horse. Then she made her way to the Reverend’s home.

Billy was just getting ready to leave the Baker house when she caught up with him. “Say, Billy, wait up!” she yelled at him as he started up the horses. “I need to ask you some questions!”

Billy stopped at the sound of her voice and yelped “Whoa!” to the horses. “Yes ma’am, Miss Caroline? What can I do for you?” he stammered and blushed as she rode up next to the wagon. Like half the men in Dry Springs, Billy had a terrible crush on Caroline.

“Think back about a week,” Caroline began. “Did you have a telegram that Jeb asked you to bring out to the ranch? For me? From Denver?”

Billy looked frightened and quickly turned a deeper shade of red. “No, ma’am. No, I didn’t. No sir, I promise I didn’t.” He was lying and they both knew it.

“Billy?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

 “Why would you lie to me?”

Billy sat dead still on the wagon seat. He looked left and right as if to check and make sure that no one was listening to him. “Gosh darn it, Miss Caroline, I just knew that I was gonna get in trouble. I told him that when he stopped me and told me to give him the telegram, he was going out to your ranch and he’d deliver it. I just knew it!”

“When who stopped you, Billy? Who did you give my telegram to?”

Caroline thought her head would explode with Billy’s answer.

“Mr. Tenley.”

 


	24. It's Not Over

“Me?” Samantha sputtered. “You sent a telegram to me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Coles' voice was filled with shame and embarrassment. “I’m not proud of it, but I did.”

“To St. Louis?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“How did you know where to find me?” This was getting more bizarre by the minute.

“The man I owed money to. He gave me your name and hotel and told me what to write.”

Sam was stunned into silence. Her mind raced back over the events of the last eight weeks and tried to sort everything into chronological order. Fred Cole continued to stare into his coffee cup and wait for her next question. “And what was that?”

He didn’t want to answer to her. Every response that he gave her simply led to another question, inevitably to the one that he was afraid to divulge the answer to.

“To come to Denver for the poker game.”

She looked at him strangely as it all began to fall into place. “And?”

“To meet Bret Maverick here.”

‘ _Why go to all this trouble?’_ she wondered. She tempered her disappointment at Bret not actually “inviting” her to Denver with her next question. “Why?”

Samantha was forced to wait for the empty coffee cup to be refilled before he answered her. “So that you’d think somethin’ was wrong when Maverick never showed.”

Again she repeated “Why?”

“So’s you would send for his brother.” Sam saw what this was all leading up to, but she continued to follow the trail doggedly, one step at a time. When she relayed this information to Bart, she wanted to make sure that she had all the answers. “And why was that important?”

“To get him to Denver to look for his brother.” How long would it take her to drag this out of him?

“Why?”

Fred exhaled a long sigh. He knew what was coming and he dreaded it.

“So’s his wife would be left alone.”

_‘She wasn’t exactly alone,’_ Sam thought. She was surrounded by the ranch hands. _‘But no Bart.’_

“Why?” Samantha had to keep asking the same question over and over. She felt like she was never going to get an answer out of him that didn’t require another question. They had been at this ‘game’ for what seemed like forever and she was tired from the long day.

“I don’t know.”

Sam looked out the window of the café and saw Bart watching them. Fred Cole’s back was turned so he didn’t see the younger Maverick brother studying them closely. She had a feeling that she’d almost exhausted Coles knowledge of the elaborate scheme.

“And just who put you up to all this?”

His answer made her catch her breath. “Lon Tenley.”

 


	25. Trouble in Paradise

Once again Samantha found herself in Bart’s hotel room sitting on the bed. That was the easiest place to be situated so that she could keep an eye on Bart as he paced back and forth across the floor. She kept watching him, trying to decide what frame of mind he was in while she related the story of her meeting with Fred Cole. She’d easily been able to determine his moods in the past since he was always fairly well tempered. Right now she couldn’t read him at all.

“Just who is this Lon Tenley?” Bart’s voice was even and steady, no hint of frustration or anger. He stopped his pacing and pulled a cigar from his coat pocket. He looked down at her attentively as he put the stogie in his mouth and struck a match.

“Someone fairly new to Dry Springs. He bought the old Snyder place a few years back. When Uncle Clement needed a loan to build a barn he was willing to lend him the money. Tenley always seemed fairly harmless.” She paused to let that statement sink in. “That’s all I know about him.”

“Mmmmmmm,” came the reply. He stopped pacing and pulled out a chair. He held Sam steady in his gaze as he asked “What do you think he’s after?”

She thought for a moment, discarding all but one possibility.  “Must be the ranch.”

Bart nodded his head in agreement. “How big is his spread?”

Now it was Sam’s turn to start walking around the room. “About as big as the Double C. If you put them together they’d take up most of the valley. And you could raise a lot of cattle on that land.”

Bart sat quietly for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. The he looked up at Samantha. “Did he ever just try to buy the place?”

She laughed softly. “Several times that I know of.  From Uncle Clement and from Caroline. Neither was inclined to sell.” Sam sat down in a chair across the table from Bart. “He never seemed pushy about it, though. Maybe he thought Caroline would give in eventually and he could be a cattle baron.”

“Makes sense. A woman alone has tough going. Especially with a place that size. As long as she was by herself he probably figured he had a chance.” He looked meaningfully at Sam. “And then we came along. And it looked like Caroline wasn’t going to be alone anymore.” His face was still unemotional, but his eyes were sorrowful. It disturbed him that Sam’s solution to Caroline’s dilemma of inheritance now seemed to be causing problems. And he was the main source of that trouble.

“I can’t think anymore. I’m exhausted,” Samantha pronounced. She rose to leave. “Let’s sleep on it and come up with a plan in the morning.”

Once again all she got from Bart was a nod. _‘What’s going on?’_ she wondered. _‘Bart always has a plan.’_

After Sam closed the door to his room, he sat in the chair and smoked for a long time. He seemed to be deciding something. Then he got up, put on his coat and walked down the hotel steps to the street. He looked up and down the busy thoroughfare and crossed over to the nearest saloon, walked in quietly and went straight to the bar.  “Whiskey,” he told the bartender. “And leave the bottle.”

 


	26. The Plan

The knocking was persistent and heavy. No matter how much he wanted it to go away, it didn’t stop. In fact, it got worse. Finally he grabbed his shirt from the chair and put it on, buttoning up the front as he answered the door. “I thought you were exhausted,” he told Sam as she pushed her way past him into the room.

“That was last night. This is this morning.” She glanced at him as the door closed. He looked like he had the first morning he arrived in Denver, rumpled and unshaven and in desperate need of sleep. She didn’t know that he had been in bed for less than an hour when she pounded on the door. Right now she didn’t care. Someone had gone to great lengths to isolate Caroline from Bart and Sam and they needed a plan to deal with it. She looked at the bed and realized that he’d slept on top of the covers instead of under them. She didn’t know what happened last night after she left, but it couldn’t have been good.

His speech was thick with sleep. “What time is it?” He needed coffee or food and it wasn’t likely to be the latter. There was no time for breakfast.

He’d stood at the bar for a long time last night and nursed his drink. Every time he thought about having another he remembered what liquor did to him and it wasn’t pleasant. He considered sitting in on a poker game but feared he would be too distracted. And when you weren’t paying attention to the cards, they didn’t pay attention to you. Poker became gambling. And Pappy had taught him never to gamble.

Samantha finally answered him. “It’s almost 9 o’clock. Are we going somewhere?”

“Not ‘we.’ You. There’s a southbound stage at 10 and you have a ticket for it. Better get packed and checked out.” He put his hand in the small of her back and tried to steer her towards the door. Sam would have no part of it.

“Bart Maverick, you scoundrel, I am not going anywhere without you. No telling what kind of trouble you’d get into without me here to protect you.” He grimaced as she spoke.

“No ma’am, you are going straight back to Dry Springs as fast as you can get there.” There was a steeliness, an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there the night before. “Caroline needs you there.”

“She needs you, too,” she argued. “What are you going to do?”

He hesitated to share his plans. Then he finally decided the need to pacify her was greater than the need to keep her in the dark. “I’m going to do some nosing around and see what I can find out about Tenley. And see if I can get a lead on Bret’s actual whereabouts, in case I need his help. I should be able to head back in a day or two.” At first he didn’t tell her about Caroline’s telegram, which had finally arrived last night after Samantha went to bed. He reconsidered when it appeared that Samantha was still ready to argue with him.

“I got a telegram from Caroline. She needs someone to lean on and it can’t be me. Not just yet.”

There was a tone in his voice that she hadn’t heard before. It was almost as if – no, it couldn’t possibly be – he was genuinely concerned about Caroline. Worried, even. But more than that. There was unspoken affection in his voice. Had Bart actually fallen in love with her cousin?

She didn’t dare to question him. If it was true he’d deny it, and if it wasn’t true he’d laugh in her face. Either way she’d lose. There was no sense arguing any further – she was leaving on the next stage.  She visibly sagged against the door and he knew that she’d given up. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Sam turned to face him before leaving. “Please be careful. Caroline needs you.” She paused and then whispered, “I need you.”

He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Take care of Caroline. Find out how close the estate is to being settled.” Her head jerked up and she looked into his eyes. For a moment she wondered if he was still leaving once the money was available and the debts were paid. Then she saw it – a brief glimpse of the feelings he was doing his best to hide. “Yes, Bart,” she smiled weakly. “Hurry home.”

 

 


	27. The Dye is Cast

Caroline was at the depot to meet her when Samantha got off the stage. It had been a miserable journey back to Dry Springs, dusty and dirty and hot. And there was the constant worrying that Sam’s brain kept at for days on end. Even though Bart was fully capable of taking care of himself and had done so for years, he had never quite been in a situation like this before. To say nothing of the dilemma facing Caroline; Lon Tenley and his scheming. Samantha was glad to be done with the trip.

“I’m so happy to see you!” Those were the first words out of Caroline’s mouth and they couldn’t have been more sincere. At least now that Sam was back in town Caroline could quit agonizing over what might be happening in Denver between her cousin and her husband.

Samantha and Caroline hugged ‘hello’ and turned from the stagecoach. Neither was prepared for what they saw next – Lon Tenley. He had an innocent look on his face and smiled at them both. “Ladies. How nice to see you.” He reminded them of a rattlesnake, all coiled and ready to strike. And strike he did, with his next remark. “What, no Mr. Maverick? Were the temptations of Denver too much for him? How could he stay there when he had both of you to come home to?”

Even Samantha was appalled at his crudeness and outright hostility. Even if it was true, no gentleman would ever imply such a thing to a lady. Before he could say anything else offensive Caroline slapped his face. Then she glared at him as she calmly said, “Mr. Tenley, your remark is unwarranted. My husband will be home on the next stage.” With that she took Sam’s hand and pulled her and her suitcase away from the gathering crowd.

“Why that . . .” Samantha left the sentence unfinished. She thought a moment and added “ . . snake.”

“Not here,” Caroline told her. “We should talk, but not here.” Both women walked to Caroline’s buggy and climbed in. They started for the ranch without speaking, each of them feeling slightly awkward around the other. Caroline wondered what had transpired in Denver and Sam wondered what her cousin thought about Lon Tenley’s insinuations. Half way back to the ranch Samantha spoke. “Did you hear from Bart? Is he supposed to be on the next stage?”

“Not exactly.” Caroline waited to see if she required an explanation. When nothing further was said Caroline offered one anyway. “He’s on his way back but not by stage. I’m just as glad for that. I don’t want another run-in with Mr. Tenley.”

They bounced along the road a while longer before Sam spoke again. “Did he make you another offer?”

Caroline smiled a little at the question. “Not exactly. He keeps telling me that he’ll pay good money, but he never mentions an amount. I’d hate to guess what he’d consider ‘good money.’” She turned her head to look at Sam. “Of course I wouldn’t sell. I have no intention of leaving this valley.”

That didn’t bode well for Bart’s life as a gambler. Not if he had feelings for Caroline.

“What if Bart wants to leave?”

Caroline had given that considerable thought. “Alone?”

“No.”

She weighed her words carefully before she spoke. “I don’t see that happening.”

“And if it does?”

“I . . . I don’t know.”  She spoke softly, almost to herself.

That gave Samantha food for thought. After the way Bart looked in Denver when he talked about Caroline and the way her cousin seemed right now, something was definitely happening between the two. This was not at all what she expected when she first asked Bart to ‘step in and save the day’. She tried to be pleased with the result of the pairing but grudgingly admitted to herself that she had feelings for Bart. _‘Little bitty tiny ones’_ was the way her mind put it. Actually, for both of the Maverick brothers. They were fun to be around in a way that few others were. And they never held a grudge, even though Sam had embroiled them in more than a few scrapes. So she felt there was a special relationship among the three of them. And now Caroline was intruding on that relationship. And it was all Sam’s fault.

Caroline pulled the buggy up in front of the ranch house and got down. One of the hands walked over and took the horses’ reins from her and got Samantha’s bag. “Thanks, Jess.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jess replied and started to lead the horses towards the barn. “Say, did you see Mr. Tenley in town? He stopped by here lookin’ fer ya  not long after ya left. I told him you was goin’ to town to pick up Miss Samantha and he said he’d see you there.”

Caroline sounded exceedingly displeased. “Yes, we saw him. And heard him.”

Jess shook his head and continued. “Me an’ Albert that works fer him were talkin’ last week. Albert says he’s a strange bird. Whatever that means.”

“I think I know what it means,” Samantha interjected. “He seems to want what he can’t have.”

‘ _Just like me’_ she thought.

Jess started towards the barn again and then stopped. “Is Mr. Bart comin’ back soon? Sure is nice to have around when we need help with somethin’.”

“Yes, real soon,” Caroline answered. Samantha hoped it would be soon enough.


	28. Carry Me Back

It was a lot easier to get to Dry Springs than it had been to get to Denver. Bart hurried southward but was more considerate of both his horse and himself. He didn’t like sleeping on the trail, but it was better than not sleeping.

He’d remained in Denver for three days after Samantha left. It took him that long to reconnect with Bret, whom he finally located in a mining camp in northern California, and gather what little information he could on Lon Tenley. Every time he added another piece of Tenley’s life he became more disturbed by what he discovered. The man had no redeeming qualities as far as Bart could see.

Like the Mavericks, Tenley had become a galvanized Yankee to fight Indians and escape from the northern prisons. Unlike the Mavericks, he had a real flair for fighting and seemed to find trouble wherever he went. Then, very slowly and quietly at first, he began to acquire small ranches, always selling them for enough to buy a bigger place and start again. Also unlike the Mavericks, he didn’t seem to make many friends wherever he went. Neighbors were vague; just generally didn’t like the man. There were whispers here or there about shady dealings, underhanded methods and an overall feeling of distrust. But nothing illegal. He always seemed to be right on the edge but somehow never crossed the line.

That should have made Bart feel better, but it didn’t. And now that he had been riding for several days and turning the whole story over in his mind, he wanted to get back to the ranch as soon as possible and see what Tenley’s next move was going to be. He had the feeling he wouldn’t like it.

He’d sent a telegram to Dry Springs telling Caroline he was on the way. He stopped in Colorado City when he almost fell asleep in the saddle and couldn’t take lying on the ground one more night. He woke with the sun, drank almost a full pot of coffee, collected his horse from the livery stable and took off south once more.

_‘He has to be after the ranch.’_ Bart kept thinking _. ‘What else is there? Caroline? She’d never associate with a man like that, much less marry him. No matter how short a marriage. And there isn’t enough money to make it worthwhile. No, it’s the ranch.’_

He finally quit debating it with himself and just rode. Until Dry Springs, or rather what there was of it, came into view. There was only one stop he intended to make, at Thurgood Shafer’s office. Like him or not, the man was Caroline’s lawyer and should have her best interest at heart. Bart had some questions that he still needed to be answered.

He took his horse to the livery stable for some hay and a rubdown and walked back to the attorney’s office. The law clerk he and Caroline had encountered on their first visit was nowhere to be seen. Shafer’s office door was partly closed, but Bart could hear voices. He recognized the lawyer’s but not the other man. He inched quietly down the hall and stopped just before he could see who Shafer was talking to.

“I still think such vulgarity was unnecessary. There was no need to invite attention to the situation.” There was a tinge of disgust in Shafer’s voice.

“Do you want the Double C or not? I did what I had to do.” There was nothing but disdain in the other voice.

There was silence for a moment as if considering this, and then Shafer asked “Do you think it worked?”

A contemptuous laugh oozed from the second man. “You should have seen their faces. And Mrs. High-and-Mighty Maverick believed every word.” He paused and then added “It worked.”

“Good. We have no idea when her ‘husband’ will be back. It needs to work quickly.”

“It will. Once she starts thinkin’ bout the gambler and her cousin she won’t want either one of them at the ranch. Then she’ll sell.”

Shafer rose from his chair. “That’s the point.” He shook his head contemptuously. “Foolish woman. It would have been much easier if she had just co-operated.”

The unseen man chuckled softly. “Yeah, but wouldn’t a been near as much fun.”

Thurgood Shafer straightened himself to his full height and glared at the other man, who remained seated. “Is that all this is to you? Fun?”

“Aw, Thurgood, a man’s got to have some fun in his life, don’t he?”

“No wonder I’m the brains and you’re the brawn.” The attorney started to walk around his desk and Bart backed down the hallway as quietly as he could. His instincts had been right all along – Thurgood Shafer and his partner were up to no good. But who was the mysterious partner? Bart needed to get a look at the faceless voice to be sure he knew who or what Caroline was dealing with. He slipped out the front door and let it close softly behind him. He ducked around the corner and hid in the shadows of late afternoon. He didn’t have to wait long to spot the unknown conspirator.

The man was average height, older than Bart, and rather nondescript in a surly kind of way. He casually strolled over to the saloon and went inside. Bart was about to cross the street and follow him when Thurgood Shafer left his offices and locked the door behind him. Bart retreated into the shadows.

He had to get back to the ranch. Finding out who the crooked attorney’s partner was would have to wait. He made his way back down the street and ducked into the livery unseen. Or so he thought.

Bart paid the stable man and saddled his horse. As he rode out of the barn into the late afternoon air, a hidden figure watched him from the darkened corners of the saloon. It was Lon Tenley.

 

 


	29. Oops

Bart and his horse were moving rather slowly, but his mind was racing. He felt like the answers were within reach, but every time he came to a conclusion he shook his head and started over. If the whole purpose of the scheme was to get Caroline to dispose of the ranch, why had he been lured to Denver? What could Shafer and his co-conspirator gain with him gone? And what had ‘worked’ on Caroline when Sam returned? He had too many loose ends in his hands and they seemed to be slipping through his fingers.

Eventually, the outer edges of the Double C came into view. He thought about that first desperate ride the morning after the wedding and laughed. “Bart, old boy, you’ve come a long way,” he said out loud. He urged his horse forward; he was eager to get to the ranch. He’d had his fill of sitting in a saddle; he wanted to spend a long, glorious night sleeping in a bed. And he missed Caroline.

_‘Bret would double over with laughter,’_ he thought. And Pappy. Pappy would never speak to him again. Or maybe he would. Maybe Pappy would develop a soft spot for Caroline, as he had for every lady he ever met. Pappy always said, “Women will lead you to ruin unless you lead them there first.” Pappy said a lot of things; Bart and Bret had quoted his lessons their whole life. Maybe there was a time and place to start learning new things for himself. Maybe this was it.

The horse came to a stop at the hitching post and Bart slowly dismounted. He saw Jess and Walter walking his way and he was glad to hand the bay gelding over to them.

“Howdy, Mr. Bart,” Jess offered. It sure was good to see Bart back; Jess had worried constantly about ‘the ladies’ with him gone. Especially with that Tenley fellow around. “Glad you’re home.”

“Thanks, Jess. Do you know where Caroline is?”

“Yes sir, she went down to the south ridge to see about some lost cattle. I imagine she should be back any time.” Jess hesitated and handed the reins of the gelding over to Walter, who started for the barn. “Mr. Bart, there’s somethin’ I think you oughta know.” His voice got very quiet and concerned. “That Tenley fella’s been comin’ round here every two or three days tryin’ to get Miss Caroline to sell the ranch. Don’t wanna take no for an answer. Last time he came he had her real upset. She and Miss Samantha got into it somethin’ fierce after he left.” He paused and his voice got very stern. “Don’t nobody got no right to make them ladies fight like that and cry. I didn’t see ‘em or hear ‘em cry, mind you, but I know he made ‘em.” A small smile appeared on his face as he started for the barn. “Anyways, like I said, me an’ the boys are sure glad you’re home. Night.” He headed off after Walter.

Home. Twice Jess had said ‘glad you’re home.’ Bart had never thought of any place as home except that ranch in Little Bend, Texas that he and Bret tried to go back to after the Civil War. But Jess had called the Double C ‘home’ and Bart realized he had begun to think that way, too. When had that happened?

Just then Samantha appeared on the front porch. “Bart - Thank God!” She came running down the steps and threw her arms around his neck. “I’m so glad you’re back!”

He and Sam had greeted each other dozens of times before, but never like this. It almost seemed as if Sam was waiting to be saved from something awful and Bart had arrived to do just that.

“Well hello to you too.” Bart gently reached up and untangled Sam’s arms from around his neck. The welcoming embrace seemed to make him uncomfortable. He tried to downplay the importance of his question. “What’s going on?”

“Too much. Caroline isn’t here. She went after some cows.” Sam’s face twisted up in disgust. “Cows.” Then she took his hand and led him inside. “You found Bret, didn’t you?”

He sank into a chair, glad to have something underneath him that wasn’t moving. “Yep. In Soggy Creek Mining Camp, embroiled in God knows what.” Bart was sure that, whatever it was, it didn’t involve Bret doing anything that even vaguely resembled work. He let out a long sigh. “Anything to eat around here?”

Sam glared at him. She hadn’t seen him in weeks and all he was interested in was food. “How would I know?” she asked him. “I just eat, I don’t cook!”

He almost laughed, Samantha was so serious. Even with Shafer and Tenley and all they entailed on his mind, she could make him smile. “Then how about coffee?”

“Tea?” she volunteered. He shook his head ‘no.’ “Anything stronger?”

“Whiskey,” came her answer. To her surprise, he got up and went into the pantry, returning with two small glasses. “Well?” he asked. “Whiskey?”

She followed his gaze to the bottle on the table and retrieved it. Carefully pouring two shots of the golden liquid, she set the bottle down and raised her glass to him. “Welcome home.”

There was that sentiment again. This time it sounded less foreign than it had earlier. “Mmmmmm,” he acknowledged as he drank. The liquor warmed him and he felt better.

“Now, tell me everything you know.”

Samantha gathered herself and began relating all that had happened since she last saw him in Denver. She babbled on about the trip back to Dry Springs, the run in with Lon Tenley at the stage depot, and his insistent pursuit of the ranch. She hesitated to explain the fight that she and Caroline had participated in several days ago and then decided that he better know everything.

“I just don’t know what got into Caroline; maybe it was that crude rancher and his insinuations.” She looked over at Bart to make sure he was still listening to her. “She kept asking things about you and me.  Where we met, how long we’ve been friends, how well we know each other. You know, personal things. I told her the truth – well, sort of.” She stopped talking for a moment to let her last remark sink in. “I didn’t see any reason to tell her about the game in New Orleans and the mess with that idiot cowhand.”

He let the statement pass without any comment. “She just kept asking questions and not liking the answers. So I finally told her that our relationship was none of her business and I wasn’t going to indulge her anymore.”

Bart looked at her with a mixture of apprehension and dismay. He appreciated Sam’s reluctance to try and explain their connection. He wasn’t sure he understood it himself. But he also pondered what the effect of weeks of being separated and the constant haranguing by a man like Tenley would have on one's emotions. Add to that Sam’s hesitation to provide a truthful answer to innocent questions and he worried about Caroline’s state of mind.

Samantha was unaware of all the thoughts running through Bart’s head as she unraveled her story. “She got angry. Accused me of lying to her, telling me that I lured you to Denver to steal you away. Totally ignored how concerned you were about Bret and just got as upset as I’ve ever seen her.” She paused for a moment, lowered her head in embarrassment and got very quiet. “We got ugly. Called each other names that ladies don’t use and stormed off to bed.” Before Bart could interject anything, Sam brightened and looked up. “We fixed it the next morning. I told her that I had no interest in either of the Mavericks as anything other than friends and she seemed to accept that. Just can’t imagine why she was so upset in the first place.”

Sam might not have seen what was right in front of her but Bart did. Caroline had fallen in love with her husband.

 


	30. Murder

It was near dark when Caroline returned to the Double C. There was light in the window but the curtains were drawn and there was no movement in the room. She unsaddled her horse in the barn and gave him a good rubdown before closing the barn doors and heading for the house. Halfway there she realized that Bart’s horse was also in the barn and she took off running. She was breathless when she reached the front door.

“Bart?” she gasped as she went through the door. He was sitting at the table staring into an empty whiskey glass. The bottle was on the tabletop where Sam had left it, still almost full. He looked up as Caroline came through the door, then stood as she approached. He’d been prepared for almost any reaction except the one he got. She took the glass from his hand and poured a drink. After swallowing the shot, she poured another and handed the glass to him.

“I’m in deep trouble,” she stated unequivocally. He drank the whiskey and set the empty glass on the table. “We’re in deep trouble,” he answered. Caroline nodded her head in agreement. She understood.

“Tell me everything you know. Don’t leave out anything and don’t skip over anything.” His voice was calm and steady, reassuring her that there was a way out of the mess their lives had become.

She started from the very beginning, back to the time when her father first borrowed money from Lon Tenley. She told Bart everything she could think of, including the awful things that Tenley had implied at the stage coach depot. She explained where she was when he arrived that afternoon, checking out what was supposed to be nothing more than a few steers that had wandered off. Jimmy Whitlaw had ridden up that morning babbling about “too many missing cattle” and she had ridden out to see exactly how many it took to qualify as ‘too many’.

When she located the steers on the south ridge she concluded that Jimmy was right, the size of the herd had dwindled. She rode the perimeter for a while and couldn’t spot anything out of the ordinary. Then something caught her eye and she headed west, towards Tenley’s place. On the other side of the wash, she found them, 20 or 30 head, dead. All had their throats cut, not an easy thing to do to a steer. Without thinking she continued to head west, straight to the Tenley spread. He was standing in front of the bunkhouse, arguing with a man whose back was turned to Caroline. There was something familiar about the stranger. She blinked in the sunlight and rode closer. The man turned and walked away from Tenley. It was her attorney, Thurgood Shafer. She was dumbfounded.

She pulled her horse up sharply, turned and wheeled back toward Double C land. She heard shouting from the men behind her, recognizing the panic in Shafer’s voice and the anger in Tenley’s, but not understanding the words. She spurred her horse on and they tore across the open range. She headed for the sheriff’s office in Dry Springs but soon realized that she had no physical proof of anything. She needed time. She headed for the church on the hill where she had been married and tied her horse outside. They wouldn’t dare come after her in the church.

She slipped in the door. It was cool and dimly lit inside. In the fading afternoon sun, the house of worship felt safe and welcoming. She took a seat and ran through the whole litany of duplicities one more time. The attempt by Shafer to buy the ranch; insistence on enforcing the ‘marriage clause’ in her father's will; the delays in settling the estate; the false pretenses used to lure Bart to Denver so that it would appear that her new husband was unfaithful to her; the undelivered telegram; the implications that Sam and Bart were more than friends; the constant overtures to buy the ranch; the missing and dead cattle. What now? Caroline shivered as she guessed the next step in the plan.

She sat in the church for a long time before deciding it was safe to go back to the ranch. “That’s all I know,” she said aloud as she turned to face Bart. “What’s their next move?” The tone of her voice let Bart know that she’d already figured out their next move. He tried to lead her in a different direction. “Not sure. Maybe just sit and wait awhile.”

The look in her eyes told him that she didn’t believe him. She spoke the word slowly, carefully; afraid that saying it aloud would make it so. “Murder.”

He wouldn’t lie to her. Not now. “Probably. The question is, which one of us do they kill?”


	31. The Kiss

They sat at the table for a long time in silence, each one contemplating death. Finally, Caroline spoke. “Any need for supper?”

Bart stood and stretched his legs. “Nope. But I could stand a smoke.” He crossed the room to the door and opened it cautiously, almost expecting to find someone with a gun waiting. Instead, he got the cool night air and unexpected quiet. Whatever the next move by Shafer and Tenley it didn’t appear to be coming tonight. He walked out onto the porch and searched his pocket for a cigar. They were still in his coat upstairs. He turned back to the door and stepped inside. As he did so, Caroline rose from the table and stood up, gathering the empty glasses and bottle. He caught his breath as he looked at her.

She was truly beautiful. How had he not noticed that all this time? There was too much going on not in his control; he was a Maverick, after all, and they were used finding a way out no matter how dire the situation. And make no mistake, this situation was dire. She briefly smiled at him and lowered her eyes, as if she knew what he was thinking. How could she? He didn’t even know what he was thinking. With nothing else to say he offered, “Here, let me help you.”

He took the glasses from her hand and carried them back to the pantry. When he turned around, she was behind him and he gathered her into his arms and kissed her. This time there was no hurry to his kiss, no apologizing for it. There was only the kiss and the way she felt in his arms. She kissed him back.

They stepped apart and looked at each other. He swept her into his arms and carried her up the staircase and into his room. The cigar was forgotten.

 


	32. The Denouement

Sunlight was streaming through the open window. A breeze rustled the curtains as Bart smiled and stretched. Then he remembered. He rolled over quickly on the bed and realized that he was alone. Had she really been here? An indentation in the mattress next to him assured him that yes, Caroline had spent the night. He smiled again and slowly abandoned the warmth of the bed.

He shaved carefully and washed up before getting dressed. This was his first morning home and he wore a good shirt, vest, and tie but left his coat hanging on the back of a chair. He heard Caroline and Sam’s voices downstairs and crossed the room to the door. Opening it, he paused for a moment to listen to the women talking.

“You look a whole lot happier than the last time I saw you,” came Sam’s statement. There was an extended pause and he could hear pots and pans rattling.

“Yes.” Caroline’s answer was brief and to the point.

“Did you find out what happened to the missing steers?”

Once again the brief answer. “Yes.”

Samantha’s next question was quite blunt. “Something going on that I should be aware of?”

He heard someone walk across the room downstairs. Caroline considered her words carefully before answering. “No.”

This felt too much like eavesdropping and Bart started down the stairs. Caroline heard him and came out to the table with the coffee pot and cups. “Good morning, Mr. Maverick. Coffee, I presume?”

“Why thank you, yes, please, Mrs. Maverick.” He smiled at her as she poured a cup. Samantha came into the room and looked at Caroline, then Bart, then back at Caroline. The tiniest sound escaped her lips. “Oh.”

Bart sat at the table for a while and drank coffee. The events of the last several weeks played out in his mind, especially the last 24 hours. There was no doubt that Shafer and Tenley were after the Double C and were willing to go to any lengths to get it. What was Caroline willing to do to hold onto the ranch? Or better yet, what were Bart and Caroline willing to do? He was still deep in thought when Samantha sat down next to him at the table and said something.

“What’d you say, Sam?”

“You. And Caroline.” She nodded first at Bart and then at Caroline, who was still moving around in the pantry. She stared at Bart but was afraid to ask the question. “Did you . . . . .?”

He nodded his head in the affirmative. “Yes, we had a long talk last night. Had a lot of information to share and things to decide.” He stopped short. There was a twinkle in his eye. “Is that what you wanted to know?”

Samantha could tell that she wasn’t going to get any further with Bart. When push came to shove, he was first and foremost a gentleman. She got up from the table and took the coffee pot with her. “Sam,” he called after her. “Bring the coffee back.”

Instead, Caroline came into the room. It was her turn to ask a question. “Bart, what are we going to do?”

“Hang on to the ranch any way we can. Don’t know what other tricks those two have up their sleeves, but at least we know what they’re after. And what lengths they’ll go to to get it.” He looked into his coffee cup and chuckled as he said to her “Course we can always take the Maverick way out. Sell the ranch and run. Pappy always said ‘He who turns and runs away lives to run another day.’ Maybe we should consider it.”

She shook her head no. Bart continued “I didn’t think you’d be interested in doing that. I’m going to ride into town and send a telegram to Brother Bret. See if I can dislodge him from that mining camp. I’ll talk to the sheriff while I’m there and get this whole thing out in the open. We may not have any proof right now, but the sheriff still needs to know what’s going on.”

He got up from the table and bent down to kiss her forehead. “I’m going upstairs first. See if Jess will saddle my horse for me?”

This time she nodded yes. “Right away.”

Bart climbed the stairs. He inspected his inside coat pocket to make sure there were cigars. Then he picked the coat up from the chair, put it on and, without thinking, started to leave the room. At the last minute, he remembered to strap on his gun belt.  He checked to make sure that the revolver was fully loaded and reholstered the gun. Better safe than sorry.

He closed the door to the room behind him and started back down the staircase. Neither Samantha nor Caroline was in sight and he searched in his coat pocket for a smoke. Just as he started to put the cigar in his mouth something in the doorway downstairs caught his eye. Before he could reach for his weapon he heard a voice warn him, “Don’t touch the gun, Maverick, or you’re dead.” It was Lon Tenley.

Tenley hastened inside the house with both his revolvers pointed at Bart. He closed the door behind him, and grinning crazily, waved one gun barrel in the general direction of the stairs. “Come on down here closer while we talk awhile. I don’t want to shout.”

Bart stood perfectly still in the middle of the staircase. “I don’t think so, friend. I think I like the distance better.”

“Suit yourself,” came the reply. “I can kill you from anywhere.”

“Couldn’t I convince you to point those somewhere else?”

Tenley laughed out loud. “You’re a card, aren’t ya? But that’s fitting ain’t it? Aren’t you a cardsharp?”

Bart showed no emotion at the implied insult. “I’m a gambler, friend.”

“Quit it,” Tenley snapped back. “I ain’t your friend. I got a problem to solve and I’m gonna solve it.”

Bart slowly and carefully shifted his weight from one foot to the other and tried to inch his right hand down towards his gun. It was obvious now which one of them Tenley was here to kill. And Bart was going to try everything in his power to keep that from happening. He just hoped that Caroline and Samantha would stay out of sight until this was over.

“Do you solve all your problems with a gun?”

“Darn straight, those I have to. If Caroline Crawford wasn’t so stubborn, this here coulda been settled and over a long time ago.” He noticed what Bart was up to and waved a gun barrel in his direction again. “Stop it now fore I have to shoot you fore I’m ready.”

Bart stopped moving and tried another tactic. ”Look, it’s not too late. We were talking about selling just this morning. This can still be settled peacefully.”

“Yeah, and as soon as I holster my guns you pull yours and shoot me.” He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. It’s gone too far already.”

“What do you gain by killing me?” Bart asked.

Tenley hesitated for a moment. “The Double C.”

“And a rope around your neck.” Bart was still trying to buy time. Anything that might give him an advantage over the man holding the guns on him. Without warning a thought occurred to him that sent a cold chill up his spine. There was a way that Tenley could avoid the gallows. Kill them all.

Tenley laughed, a cold and evil sound. He knew how to avoid hanging, too.

Bart asked the next question. “And who are you going to blame?”

The reply was swift and terse. “Injuns.” Tenley motioned again for Bart to descend the rest of the stairs. “Time to stop this yappin’. Get on down here.”

Before either of them could move, a figure appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. At first Bart thought it was Caroline but quickly realized that the shape was smaller. It was Samantha, who stopped in her tracks as soon as she saw Tenley’s guns. “What’s going on?”

“Get in here,” Tenley growled. “Sit where I can see you.” He took one gun off Bart for a moment as he motioned Sam to move into the room and sit at the table. She did so without hesitation. “Well, ain’t this cozy. Got both your ladies in one place, eh?” He trained the second gun on Sam, then looked back at Bart. “Okay. No funny moves or you can watch yer girlfriend die first.” He fixed his gaze steadily on Bart. “I ain’t tellin’ you again. Get down here.”

From Tenley’s tone of voice, Bart knew that he had pushed the man as far as he could. He took a step down, then another, and the man with the guns relaxed slightly. Bart saw an opening and took it.

At that moment, the front door swung open and Caroline stood clearly in the sunlight. Tenley whirled around and fired. Bart let out a long yell “NO!” and grabbed for his gun as Caroline dropped to the floor.  He hit Tenley with the first two bullets and missed with the third. Before the gunmen went down, he got off a shot that stung Bart in the left arm. Just as he reached the bottom of the staircase, Bart shot once more and Tenley dropped, dead.

Bart rushed to Caroline’s side and picked her up in his arms, gently. She smiled with her eyes closed and whispered “Get him?”

“Yep.” Bart could scarcely get the word out. He kissed Caroline tenderly on the lips and rocked her soundlessly. She was dying and he knew it. “Bart.” Her voice was barely a whisper. He had to lean close to her mouth to hear her. “Love you.” She took one last breath and lay still in his arms.

He put his lips next to her ear. It was too late for her to hear him, but he didn’t care. “I love you too.”


	33. Aftermath

Two days later, on another beautiful, sunny day, they laid Caroline Crawford Maverick to rest in a grave next to her mother and father. Maude Lerner, Celeste Hoffman and all three of her sisters were there, along with the sheriff, Jeb Conroy, and Billy Errington’s entire family. Reverend Baker said words at the gravesite. Every one of the ranch hands showed up, with Jess and Jimmy Whitlaw visibly upset. Samantha stood by Bart’s side, his left arm in a sling. He said nothing.

When the brief service was over, Sheriff Foster stopped in front of Bart. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Maverick. Caroline Crawford was a good woman.” He paused, waiting for a reaction from Bart. He got none. “Thurgood Shafer is in jail. He’ll be tried for conspiracy to commit murder, among other things. They’re sending a special prosecutor from Denver to handle the case, and another attorney to assist with Caroline’s estate since we no longer have one in town.” He stopped and cleared his throat. “The Double C is yours now since you’re the next of kin.”

Bart looked at Samantha and she took Sheriff Foster’s arm and pulled him aside. “Actually, we’ve talked about that already,” she told the sheriff. “Bart wants me to have the ranch. That way it stays in the Crawford family. He thinks that would have made Caroline happy.” She looked up at the sheriff imploringly. “He says he doesn’t want anything. Maybe you can come out to the spread in a few days and talk some sense into him. He won’t listen to me.”

The sheriff looked at her with sympathy. “Sure, Miss Samantha, I’d be glad to do that. I know they weren’t together long, but it was real obvious how Miss Caroline felt about him. After what they went through it doesn’t seem right for him to have nothin’.” He tipped his hat to her and walked away.

Slowly everyone left the grave. When they had all cleared out Samantha was the only one still standing there with Bart. He hadn’t said a single word during the entire service and not much of anything since Jess had to help her pry Caroline’s body from his arms. She didn’t know that Bart Maverick could be so quiet. Samantha had been the one to step in and arrange everything for her cousin’s burial, including sending a wire to Bret begging him to come help her take care of his brother. Bret had replied, telling her he would be there in a week, the fastest he could make arrangements to get to Dry Springs. She told Bart that Bret was coming but if he actually heard her he didn’t seem to care. She couldn’t get him to eat and heard him prowling the house late at night, so he wasn’t sleeping, either. He wouldn’t touch a deck of cards and actually didn’t do much of anything except sit and stare. She didn’t know what to do with him. She was glad that Bret was on his way.

Sam walked back to the buggy.  It was no good to try and get Bart to leave until he was absolutely ready to go. She climbed up and sat there, thinking about the first time she had seen Bart Maverick. It was in his hotel room and she was there looking for the man who had just vacated it. She found Bart instead. He was gorgeous and chivalrous and full of mischief, just exactly her kind of man. Not at all like the tall, silent figure standing next to the freshly dug grave.

Finally he turned and walked to the buggy. He got in, took the reins and urged the horses on. They rode in silence back to the ranch. When they arrived, Jess was there to put everything away. Bart said something to Jess, who nodded and took the horses to the barn. Bart and Samantha went up the steps to the porch, where Bart stopped and stared at the front door. Sam reached out and put her hand on his good arm. “Bart, what is it?”

He didn’t answer. For just a moment he saw Caroline, the way she looked the first day they met. He blinked, looked at the door and blinked again. She was gone. He shook his head and answered Sam “Nothing.” He pushed open the door and went inside.

Sam made her way into the pantry and put on a fresh pot of coffee. Maybe she could get Bart to eat something now that everything was over. She heard him moving around upstairs and wondered what he was doing. In just a few minutes she heard the sound of his boots coming down the staircase and walked out into the main room. Bart was dressed in his traveling clothes, standing in the exact spot where he had killed Lon Tenley, with his suitcase in his hand. He looked down at her and a sardonic smile barely creased his face.

He stood there for a moment, not saying anything. Then he made his way down the rest of the stairs before setting his bag on the floor.

“I’m leaving.”

She stared at him blankly. He couldn’t leave. His arm wasn’t healed. He wasn’t well emotionally. Bret was on his way to the ranch. Samantha needed him at the Double C to get everything in order. It didn’t matter how many reasons she could think of, she knew that nothing would change his mind. “Where will you go?”

He had apparently given that some thought. “Mexico.” It seemed like the most reasonable place to him. A man could get lost in Mexico. Hide from the world for a while. Live in a place with no reminders. And maybe learn to live with his grief.

It took her a minute to realize the depth of his need to leave. Then she nodded her head and stood on tip-toes to kiss his cheek. “You always have a home here,” she told him quietly.

He nodded back to her and looked around the room. There had been so many happy feelings awakened here, so much despair and sorrow. The weight of his grief wouldn’t let him breathe anymore. If he was ever going to be Bart Maverick again, he had to go. And it had to be now, before the very act of being alive became too much.

He picked up his belongings and walked out the door.


	34. Epilogue

One day almost six months later Bret was standing outside the Talmadge River Saloon in Talmadge, New Mexico, getting ready to light a cigar. He’d just gotten up from a poker game that had lasted most of the night and he needed a smoke, coffee and breakfast. _‘One down’_ he thought as he struck a match. He looked up and down the small, dusty street. It was still very early in the morning and most of the town hadn’t yet started to move. He could see a horse at the very edge of town, headed his way, and there was something familiar about the rider. Bret smoked for a few minutes and kept watching the horse get closer. Then it dawned on him why the rider looked familiar. It was someone he hadn’t seen for quite a while – his brother Bart.

“Hey, Bart!” Bret called out as the pair approached. The rider straightened slightly in the saddle and smiled. “Brother Bret!” he yelled from about 10 feet away. Bart reined his horse over to the hitching rail and dismounted.  Bret was so happy to see Bart in one piece that he practically threw his arms around his younger brother. Bart slapped Bret on the shoulder and pulled away from the unusual display of affection. “I didn’t know you were here in Talmadge,” Bart laughed.

“Yeah, been here since Tuesday. Every time I get ready to leave somebody new comes along to donate to the ‘keep Mavericks gainfully unemployed’ fund. I was just about to go get breakfast. Join me?”

To Bret’s surprise, Bart nodded yes. ”Sure. Sounds like an excellent idea.”

Bret looked at Bart carefully. Outwardly he looked respectable. A little thinner, if that was even possible. Hair a little longer. Could stand a good shave. His clothes were a little trail dirty, but that was an easy fix. It was what Bret couldn’t see that worried him.

By the time he got to Dry Springs Bart was long gone. Samantha plied him with coffee and concern and told him the long, sad story, even her part in causing the whole thing with her rescue of Bart all those months ago. Bret couldn’t do much more than shake his head and let out a “tsk, tsk” every once in a while. He couldn’t believe all the pain that his brother had gone through and how guilty he felt about not being there to help. Maybe there would have been a different outcome.

He stayed with Sam at the ranch for  two weeks. She might have had to learn things the hard way, but learn them she had. Everything was running fairly smoothly and the ranch hands were settling in nicely with their new boss. They liked working for Samantha almost as much as they had for Caroline.

Bret talked to Jess and Walter and Jimmy Whitlock and got a clearer picture of Bart and Caroline’s relationship. And how invaluable Bart had been around the Double C, much to Bret’s surprise. Bart was quite capable of managing a ranch and worked as hard as any of the hands to keep things going. In fact, Bret was surprised how easily Bart had slipped into the role of  ranch owner. Pappy had spent long years teaching his boys not to work any harder than they had to, but some of his teachings must have been lost on Bart.

Samantha was doing her darnedest to convince Bret to stay on longer and relax when they started hearing rumors about Bart. Drunken nights in Mexico. Crooked poker games. A never ending string of women. The stories kept coming in long and hard enough that Bret decided it was time to go find his brother. And then, just as suddenly as they had started, the rumors stopped.

That worried Bret even more. Wild escapades could be appreciated, even tolerated. What had happened to Bart would shake up any man. But no news at all, no tales of Bart’s behavior or even whereabouts was unexpected. Bret explained to Sam as gently as he could that it was imperative that he find his brother before something irreversible happened. Samantha was unhappy about the departure but understood. Bret took one of the saddle horses and left the next day, headed south.

There was no trace of Bart anywhere. It was almost as if he had fallen off the face of the earth. Bret tried Guadalajara and Guadalupe and every town in between. No, no one with that name had been in town. No, no one matching that description had been seen. In desperation, Bret wired all of their old friends he could find, but no one had seen or heard from Bart. A month passed, then two and Bret worried that something had indeed happened to his brother.

His money almost gone, Bret finally returned to the states and started playing poker again. He built his funds back up but it took him a while; his heart wasn’t really in it. If it hadn’t been for that incident in Yuma that almost got him lynched he might have kept traveling around, playing poker and winning only enough money to keep searching. After he escaped with his life, however, he knew that something had to change. Much as Bret loved Bart, if his brother was out there somewhere he would surface eventually. And if not, there was nothing that he could do about it.

That was the main reason that Bret was so stunned when Bart rode into Talmadge. While he was overjoyed to see that his younger brother was still alive, he was also surprised. Maybe a good meal would pry the information on his travels and hiding places from him.

They walked quietly to the town’s café and entered. As Bart reached for the doorknob Bret noticed something new that he hadn’t seen before – Bart was wearing a wide gold ring on his right pinkie finger. Bret made note of it and determined to ask him about it later. Right now the most important thing was coffee and food.

They talked about almost everything, except Caroline. As far as Bret could tell Bart seemed to be back to his old self, laughing and joking and telling tales. Once they finished breakfast they continued to sit and drink coffee. Until they reached a lull in the conversation and Bret decided that the time to ask had finally come.

“Say, Bart, you disappeared for a long time. Want to talk about what happened?”

Bart’s whole body stiffened for just a moment. In that second Bret saw the flicker of something in his eyes, so horrifying that it was painful to see. It was there for just an instant and was gone. And then something clicked in Bret’s head and he knew where the pinkie ring came from. It was Bart’s wedding ring.

Bart forced himself to relax. He smiled and answered his brother. It was the only answer he could give Bret.

“Nope.”


End file.
